


The Fairy Tale Killer

by silverneko9lives0



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Child Murder, Eventual Smut, F/M, FBI, Fairy Tale style killings, M/M, Seattle PD, task force - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 16:22:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 49,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When little girls start dying in what appears to be unrelated accidents and murders, the last thing Seattle PD expected was to be recruited in a task force with FBI Agent William “Bilbo” Baggins who claims that the murders are done by the Fairy Tale Killer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Victim one: Lily Mary Mosley_. Eight years old. Bitten by a hobo spider.

Poor girl was bitten when she went to kill the spider hanging from a string of web with a rolled up newspaper, missed it and it bit her when it landed on her hand. Most likely, she thought nothing of the bite, since hobo spiders are commonly mistaken for the harmless house spider.

Detective Brady “Bofur” Broadbeam listed her unfortunate death as an accident.

 _Victim two: Anna Murray_. Thirteen years old. Drowned in her bathroom.

Anna was home alone. She went to take a bath after a rough day. There is clear sign of a struggle, but no indication of who the assailant was.

Detective Dorian Ripley’s investigation into Anna’s murder is ongoing.

 _Victim three: Isabel Bay_. Nine years old. Mauled by a lion.

Bella was separated from her family while at the zoo. She was found in the lion’s den, already dead and in the process of being eaten. No one knows how she could have gotten locked in.

Detective Dwalin Fundin suspects foul play, but evidence is lacking.

 _Victim four: Alicia Logan_. Eight years old. Decapitated.

She failed to come home before five o’clock after school and girl scouts. Her parents reported her missing at eight o’clock that night. Two hours after the investigation began, Alice’s body was found in an alley, her head set beside her body and a playing card tucked into her coat: the Queen of Hearts.

This one seemed most like the beginning of a murder spree and was assigned to Detective Thorin Durin.

Bilbo Baggins set aside the new file and leaned back, rubbing his eyes as he fought off fatigue.

Three months ago, when the Fairy Tale Killer first appeared in Boston, the same…issues were presented: girls ranging from eight to thirteen—several, over the course of weeks—would be found dead at home or anywhere else they were known to frequent.

One girl, a “Cinderella,” was dumped where she practiced ballet back in Chicago.

Fifteen girls for fifteen different tales and Seattle is the fourth city. Bilbo knew he was getting obsessed, but he didn’t care. He wanted…he _needed_ this sick bastard put on death row.

“I’m hunting the devil,” he had told his mother when he called to explain why he wouldn’t be home this Christmas.

He knew it’d not sit well with her and by the way she started yelling at him to quit his job at the FBI (which she’d been doing the moment she found out he went from fraud to narcotics and more so now that he moved up to homicide).

This couldn’t go on. Some agents would spend months hunting criminals, but the longer this case was on, the more girls would be in danger.

He loathed admitting it, but he needed help—especially if he was going to get to the “Seattle Cinderella” in time.

 _At least he has some sort of pattern to follow_ , Bilbo had thought to himself when the second spree began in Denver.

The Killer chooses his victims based on hair and/or eye color and by her initials. All “Little Miss Muffets” were curly blond girls and blue eyed. All “Mermaids” were auburns. “Beauties” were brunettes and hazel eyed. “Alices” were blonds too, but with straight hair.

So on, so forth.

It wasn’t a perfect algorithm, per say, but it worked.

He fell into another uneasy sleep that night.

#

“Okay, Chief,” Dwalin said when they were all brought into the conference room at Headquarters, “What’s so important you had to call us out of work?”

He was the only one who dared to speak, though he spoke for all. Thorin thought so, at least. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, while the others stared at Gandalf, waiting for an answer. They all worked homicide, and all of them had something to look into.

“It’s related to your work,” Chief Gandalf assured them, “The FBI’s in town and the guy they sent is investigating the Fairy Tale Killer.” The temperature dropped a few degrees. Or at least Thorin’s body did.

“Our cases are related?” Dori asked.

“But why am I here?” Bofur asked.

“The girl who was bit by a spider was the first murder.”

“Hobo spiders are native to Seattle,” Bofur reminded Gandalf.

“That’s why it was listed as an accident. Our killer is smarter than he looks. He wouldn’t use a bug unknown in this area,” a newcomer said.

Honey-blond curls, neatly combed behind his ears, framed his face. His eyes were a misty blue and he had a curved nose.

“William Baggins, FBI Homicide division. You can call me Bilbo. And, well, to be blunt, I need your help. The Fairy Tale Killer is not slowing down even though he knows I’m after him. I’m one step behind him and the extra manpower would be appreciated. My AD already approved of this task force with Chief Gandalf.”

Thorin thought he looked more like someone who sold wares and knick-knacks at the Farmers Market on Saturday mornings opposed to an FBI agent. The insistence on being called “Bilbo” aided in that.

No offense to the man, of course. First impressions are generally wrong. Thorin decided to wisely keep his mouth shut.

Bilbo gave them all files about their cases and the similar ones—the _potential eleven more victims and what to look for_ had thrown Thorin off and made his gut churn awfully.

He set up a power point for them, waiting for the overhead projector to warm up. “We are searching for a Caucasian man in his thirties or forties with a fascination for fairy tales. He chooses girls based on their initials and appearance. He’s very good at covering his tracks, and consistent. He probably is either a cop or forensics expert.”

There were a few groans at that.

“Yeah. Not my favorite theory either. No cop wants to think one of their own would do this. You’ll like theory number two: CSI fan.”

That got him a few weak chuckles.

“Either way, he knows what we look for. It is possible he has a history of abuse. There is no trace of sexual activity on the victims.”

_Little comfort._

“That doesn’t mean there isn’t anything sexual about the attacks. Some have said he’s just mad. He’s not. He knows exactly what he’s doing and gets a thrill out of it. Traces of latex are found on earlier victims and the Queen of Hearts cards he’s left with his ‘Alice’ girls, to eliminate prints. The ‘Alice’ girls are decapitated. ‘Little Miss Muffets’ are bit by spiders he plants on the girl. Drowns his ‘Little Mermaids.’ ‘Beauties’ are mauled by beasts: lions usually, though the third Beauty was a tiger. Our next victim is ‘Cinderella’ in his mind.”

The screen lit up, clear against the wall. A girl with dirty blond hair stared at them with glassy blue eyes. Her neck was broken. Her toes and heels were cut off.

“Her initials are CE and her eyes are hazel blue. Her age will be between eight and thirteen years old.”

The slide changed to a typed note.

“He found out I was onto him back in Denver during his second spree. Since then, he’s been leaving notes for me since. This is the first at Rose Ryland’s murder. She was a Red Riding Hood.”

_You’re too late Huntsman. Send my condolences to Grandma.—the Big Bad Wolf_

“There’s a list of all the fairy tales he likes to mimic, the initials he chooses, their appearance, and the way he kills them. The Cinderella Girl is our top priority right now, but start working on potential girls who may be after her based on that list.”

Thorin scanned the list. Seven was gruesome. The idea of a poor girl being sawn in half disgusted him.

“Whoever the Fairy Tale Killer is, he’s not human. I’ve been given leave that if it comes to it,” he clicked his tongue. “Alive is a bonus, but not necessary.”

Thorin could agree to that. He wanted to kill this bastard. Fifteen had his niece’s initials and description. She was twelve. That scared him in ways he could not put to words.

“Some killers get away for years, starting their killings up again after a long while, knowing to wait until things die down. Not this guy. He’s on a roll and he knows it and he’s not stopping to set up shop. He’s probably staying someplace in town, a hotel or squatting in an abandoned building. The sooner we get him, the better. I want this bastard’s head on a plate. So am I right to guess you’ll help me?”

The affirmative calls brought a small smile to Agent Bilbo’s face, emphasizing the dark circles under his eyes.

Thorin wondered when it was last he slept.


	2. Chapter 2

_He watches her from across the street._

_She doesn’t sense him, surrounded by friends, laughing._

_So beautiful._

_So innocent._

_He followed until she separated from her friends._

_He noted the name of the street and her house number._

_All he could do now was observe and wait for the opportune moment._

 

 

#

Thorin wasn’t awake until he had his coffee, even after he had prepared for the day, showered, dressed, and groomed. He leaned against the counter, pouring black liquid into a coffee cup and yawning before taking a sip, raising his eyes to the ceiling at the first sound of pounding feet.

Fili appeared at in the kitchen and grabbed an apple before running out the door without a word of greeting. But he did smile and wave at Thorin at the door, who lifted his mug in response.

Kili skipped down the stairs after him, setting her backpack beside her chair. “Morning Uncle Thorin,” she chirped, gathering the essential tools and ingredients to eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

“Good morning, Princess.”

“You’re taking me to school today, right?” She stared at him with big brown eyes filled with hope. Thorin bowed, mindful of his coffee.

“When you are ready, you’re carriage awaits. Today and every day hence until—”

“You have another really dangerous case, don’t you?” Thorin nodded, sheepish. “You could just tell me," Kili insisted, dipping a spoon into her bowl. "I’m not a little kid anymore.”

 _Little enough, unfortunately_ , he thought, shrugging at her and keeping his face void of emotion. “It is dangerous. That’s all I’m telling you.”

Kili pouted. “But I like hearing about your cases.”

“I know. It worries me.”

“Is it another Jack the Ripper copycat?”

Thorin sputtered, almost drenching his shirt. “Who told you about that?”

“Fili. Two years ago.”

 _I’m gonna kill that little shit!_ “No, it’s not a Ripper copycat.”

“What about H.H. Holmes?”

“Fili again?”

“No. _Supernatural_ and Tru TV.”

Thorin sputtered. _Tru TV_?! _Supernatural_? Thorin wasn't sure he liked Kili's new tastes. “Can you go back to your Disney phase? Please? I missed those days. You wanted to be a princess and have true love and a handsome prince.” He wasn’t that keen on the prince part, admittedly.

“But then, I can’t be a cop like you are.” If Thorin had his way, Kili would _never_ join the force. “Besides, I got over that, what, three years ago? Wanting to be a princess is unrealistic. A detective, on the other hand, is.”

“I suppose that’s true, but being a princess is much safer.”

“You can’t protect me forever,” she stated between bites.

“Watch me,” Thorin challenged. “I’ll also be driving you home. Fili knows what _is_ going on.”

“Because you trust him more than me.”

“Because he’s your big brother and will be babysitting you until I say everything’s good,” Thorin corrected, finishing his coffee. He set it aside to have some toast. Kili finished before him and ran to brush her teeth. Thorin sighed and put the mug in the dish washer.

Ten years ago, his sister and brother-in-law died in a car-accident while going to pick up Kili from daycare and Fili from after school care. He had been called by the paramedics, fled to collect the children and they stayed at the hospital for hours before both parents were ruled dead. By his sister’s and brother-in-law’s will, he was named his niece's and nephew's legal guardian.

Kili was young enough to grow attached to him, but Fili, for years, had been difficult. Thorin tried, but teenagers…especially teenagers who lived what Fili had gone through what with the death of both parents and the new home he had to find in Thorin’s house…

Perhaps “difficult” was not quite the right word. Thorin liked to think he did his best, given the circumstances. Fili would do anything for Kili, and Thorin knew he’d take good care of her if anything were to happen to him. Thorin climbed the stairs.

Kili barreled past him. “See you downstairs,” she called, jumping down the steps, backpack bouncing on her shoulders.

“Be there in a minute,” Thorin mumbled. He brushed his teeth and grabbed his jacket, meeting Kili at the door. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed and eyes on the floor while Thorin put on his shoes. “Okay, let’s go.”

Kili opened the door and stepped out with Thorin behind her, locking the door.

Apart from the radio blaring the news on the radio, the drive was silent. Not awkward. Just silent. Like the silence you experience when at a yoga class. He dropped her off at the school’s front yard. “Meet me here after school. If I’m not here in ten minutes—”

“Go back inside and wait in the office until you come. And call after thirty minutes for a squad car?”

“Have them bring you to the precinct if it comes to that.”

“Okay. Bye, Thorin,” she stepped out of the car, hefting the backpack over her shoulders and closing the doors.

Thorin waited until he could not see her before driving off to work. The others had already gathered. Dwalin sent him a look of understanding while the others, who did not know Thorin as well, looked slightly annoyed.

“Where were you?” Dori snapped. “Most of us got here half an hour ago.”

“I have two kids,” Thorin growled. “And I feel safer dropping my niece of at school myself, especially given who we’re after.”

The annoyance in his teammates’ eyes vanished.

“Does she…”

“She does. The fifteenth girl.”

“Well, just because we're here early, doesn’t mean we started yet,” Dwalin said, sending the others glares. “ _Special Agent Baggins_ hasn’t shown up yet either—” The door slammed, making them jump.

Bilbo had darker circles under his eyes and his hair was more tossled than the previous day. His pale skin looked rather pasty. A satchel was strapped across his shoulder and chest. In his hands were two paper Starbucks Venti- cups with a film of steam rising from the small opening in the lid.

Had he gotten any sleep the night before?

He set his coffee down before unburdening himself of the satchel. “Ten girls match his criteria for a Cinderella. “There are five of us, so we each are tasked to guard two.” He passed two files to each of them.

Thorin opened the first file. The first girl was named Camilla Eberly, thirteen years old. The second girl was Chloe Elwood, nine years old. Both files listed where they lived, attended school, their parent’s numbers and where they worked (if they worked), after school activities (if any).

“To best protect these girls,” Bilbo continued, “we’ll need their parents’ or guardians’ cooperation. Call their parents. Arrange to meet with them here at the precinct. Under no circumstance are you to make them feel you are threatening them or their daughters but you do need to make them understand the danger and the need to pull their daughters out of school and to keep them somewhere safe.”

“Should we tell the girls?” Bofur asked.

“Only if necessary,” Bilbo said, stance rigid. “I don’t want the girls to panic and if they know they may be killed, that could happen.” Thorin agreed strongly. “I think we all agree we only have one shot to get to him. Letting him know that _we_ know who he might be after could backfire, but if it is one of these girls—and I’m positive it is—he will try to attack. We want to get him then.”

Thorin’s blood ran cold. “You’re suggesting using the girls as bait?”

“We can’t let him get to the Rumplestiltskin Girl, and I hate myself for even _thinking_ it. But if you have a better plan, tell me.”

Thorin grit his teeth. He wished he did have a better plan. But if they couldn’t stop him before the Rumplestiltskin girl…

They headed to their desks to make the calls. This plan did not sit well with Thorin. It was too risky. If they didn’t succeed, a girl could lose her life. And what then? Would they risk the life of a girl who may or may not be sawn in half?

“Durin,” Bilbo called, “A word before you go.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Thorin approached him as Bilbo took a sip from his coffee.

“Do you have any better ideas?” He sounded and looked hopeful, as though Thorin had another plan to catch the FTK and protect the girls that would be less risky.

“No.”

Bilbo closed his eyes, bowing his head. A soft curse passed his lips.

“I take it there really isn’t any other option?”

“I wish to God there was, and I don’t want to risk these kids if I can help it. But this killer…Either way, he’s not letting up and we’re against the clock. I’m half ready to sacrifice to the devil if it means getting him.”

Thorin said nothing, unsure if anything _could_ be said. He settled for, “All we can do is our best."

A disbelieving snort escaped Bilbo. “Our best, huh? Too bad, our best is not enough. We need to do the best of somebody better, if at all possible.” He took another sip of coffee. “You can go.”

Thorin did so. He glanced back at Bilbo, almost startled to see him hiding his face in his free hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Camilla and Chloe arrive with their parents later in the afternoon.

The girls and their parents, mostly housewives to hard working fathers, arrive with them. Sometimes, it was just a father, still dressed in his work clothes. They ranged from high class—daughters of doctors or some other high paying workers—to low—daughters or wards to mechanics and janitors.

Only three girls had both parents, if they had two, show: both of Thorin’s girls and one of Bofur’s.

Thorin walked to the lobby, looking through the files again.

“Eberly and Elwood,” he said. The girls were left in the lobby with the mothers.

Mr. Eberly was a tall, lanky man with large glasses and a large nose. He had thinning blond hair. His clothes fit loosely on his frame.

Mr. Elwood as equally tall, but not as tall with thicker brownish hair. He was fuller in gait than Mr. Eberly, but only just.

Thorin extended his hand first to Mr. Eberly. “Thank you for coming down on such short notice.” He then grasped Mr. Elwood’s hand firmly.

“Did our daughters do something?” Mr. Elwood asked.

“No, your girls are not in trouble with us, but I would like to speak to both of you and your wives.” Thorin said. “I’d rather not cause a panic, but we have reason to think your daughters may be in danger.”

They both motioned to their wives, both nearly identical to each other.

There was no mention of the girls being related, but the women shifting glances at each other told Thorin there may be a deeper story here. It seemed straight out of a movie plot, sisters separated at birth, but it has happened before. It may be possible that the Eberlys and the Elwoods were related…Thorin tore himself out of the possibility of a less violent mystery. He led the two families to his office.

“I am sorry to tell you this,” he began. “The Fairy Tale Killer is in Seattle. Your daughters are potential victims.”

“He hasn’t been caught yet?!” Mrs. Elwood shrieked. Her husband pet her hair, trying to soothe her nerves. “Why hasn’t he been caught?!”

Thorin explained the formation of the task force and their goal to them and the Cinderella Girl’s profile. He wondered if any of the promises of safety and protection he offers them and their daughters is enough.

“If you’d rather leave the city for a while, I will not blame you,” Thorin assures them. “If that is the course of action you choose, Seattle PD will offer you protection up until you’re plane leaves.”

Mr. Eberly drums his fingers against his knee. “You are certain the task force can stop him?”

“Our leader has been hunting him for a few months now and if given the chance, he won’t be brought in alive,” Thorin said. This he knew was true.

“What do we tell our daughters?”

“Tell them what you think is best. I suggest saying that there is something going on and they are now under SPD’s protection until things die down. The less they know, the less likely they are to panic and we don’t want that. Two uniformed officers will be assigned to each of you daughters to watch them ‘round the clock. They’ll take them to school, pick them up also. Whatever after school activities they have are over with until further notice. They go straight home, they do homework, they watch HBO, or Disney flicks, or whatever they like to do when home. Let their teachers know what’s going on—which I do advise. If their teachers are made aware of the situation, they can help if anything goes awry. We don’t expect it to, but just in case…”

“Would you do the same with your own daughter?” Mrs. Eberly said, her eye shifting to a picture of Kili.

“I would,” Thorin said, not bothering to correct her. Kili may as well be his daughter rather than his niece.

He bade them goodbye, sending four unis with them, giving the four instructions to send him updates hourly via text during the day, twice at night when they traded shifts.

#

_He leaned against a wall across the street from the precinct, watching as girl after girl stepped out with her father or mother or both._ _Baggins found his Cinderella, whether he knows it or not._

_He ground his teeth and resisted the urge to stomp his foot or some other outward expression of frustration. It would not be in his favor to attract the cops’ attention._

_Especially so close._

_He may outrun them on foot, but not if he’s chased down in a squad car._

_He focused on breathing, calming himself down. He smirked to himself, his tension leaving._

_Just killing the girls and leaving them for his dear friend Agent Baggins isn’t fun anymore._

_Maybe Baggins likes games. The notes were fun, true, but he felt it may be time to take it up a notch._ _He straightened, shifting his weight to his feet, walking to his hideout._

#

Bilbo downed his fifth cup of coffee for the day, staring yet again at his files, as though if he stared at it long enough, he’d find the answer to the mystery: the identity of the killer, where to find him—

Hell, even his preferred cocktail served at which bar by which bartender. He groaned, leaning back in his chair, massaging his head. The trill of his phone jolted him. Bilbo picked it up, leaning on the desk.

“Hello?”

No answer, save soft breathing on the other side.

“Hello?” he pressed.

The static click of someone hanging up. Bilbo checked the time. Nine PM. His cell phone buzzed, announcing him to the hourly texts the four unis he assigned to the girls he took under himself to protect.

All quiet on the home front in both locations. Good to know. While it settled his mind for now, the phone call was most disturbing. He checked the ID.

Unknown Caller. But the number was there.

Bilbo wrote it down, pocketing it before heading to trace the number.

Five minutes later, he had the location, a cross street.

“Gotcha,” he whispered, heading to get his coat.

The January air chilled him on his walk to the car. Slush fell in thick icy drops. He entered his car and drove to where the call came from. He parked on the side of the street, eyes fixed on a lone payphone.

Those still existed?

He approached the phone. Less than an hour ago, someone had been here and there were infinite possibilities for where they could have gone in.

Bilbo pulled his phone out, dialing his AD. It wasn’t likely that Brandybuck would be up, but he needed permission to have SPD scope the area here. The sooner the better. Chills crawled up his spine as he looked around.

_“This is Asistant Director Rorimac Brandybuck—”_

Bilbo sighed hanging up. His phone vibrated another text—three texts.

The first two were from the unis again.

The third was not from anyone he knew—unknown caller. _Hello, Huntsman. I see you.—The Big Bad Wolf._

Bilbo’s hands shook. He looked around, paranoia taking over rational thought. He pulled his gun out of his holster and checked his car before driving away. A sickening thought entered his head.

Was he lured out of the station?

Bilbo almost sped back, weaving in and out of traffic. He almost didn’t bother turning the car off when he jumped out of it, sprinting back into the station and too his desk.

_I’M WATCHING YOU_

_I SEE YOU_

_FEE FI FO FUM_

The files were still there, coffee spilled over them and the computer smashed. Bilbo fumed, unsure who to be angrier at: himself or FTK.

His phone rang again. Another unknown caller. He held it to his ear.

“Hello?”

More airy breathing.

“If I recall,” he said. “The huntsman did catch the wolf and gutted him alive.”

Soft laughter answered.

“Go ahead and laugh, but when I catch you, I’ll laugh over your corpse, you fucker. Thanks for handing over your handwriting. Makes my job easier.”

_Click._

Bilbo shoved the phone in his pocket, a smirk tugging at his mouth. If he wants to play games, fine. Bilbo always one games. Especially against psychos like FTK.

“My God!”

He turned. The Janitor swallowed, pasty. “What happened here?”

“When does the precinct get locked up?”

“As soon as I go home.”

“No sooner?”

“No, Sir.”

Bilbo sighed. “Isn’t there an alarm?”

“Not many people try to break _into_ a police station,” the janitor said, shrugging. “What would they be trying to steal?”

Bilbo could think of a number of things a crazy or desperate person would try to steal in a police station. Guns were the first that popped into his head. Evidence next. He drummed his fingers against the desk.

“When does the chief arrive in the morning?”

“Six AM, every morning, Sir.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to him in the morning then. And, sorry about this. Could you not touch it? It’s evidence for now. Also, where do you keep the tape, I need this room blocked off for now.”

“Break in the case?”

Bilbo shrugged. “Not at liberty to say yet.”


	4. Chapter 4

“When will security be lifted?” Gloin groaned, marching into the station. “Took me _ten minutes_ to get past the rent-a-cops!”

“You could get here earlier, then,” Bofur suggested, downing his coffee.

“Says the cop who doesn’t have any children of his own,” Gloin snapped back.

“I don’t have kids either,” Dwalin added.

“You want Fili?” Thorin asked, massaging his head as he followed Dwalin into the conference room. Fili had tried to get out of babysitting duty last night so to go to the movies with his girlfriend just at the moment Thorin returned from work. Thorin had to threaten to ground him if he dared to try leaving his sister home alone again, sparking a loud argument.

Was it really that hard to understand that a child killer was on the loose and his sister matched one of the targets? Wouldn’t that put a little fear for Kili’s sake in Fili’s head?

Apparently not as much as Thorin had hoped.

Their phones chirped. The clock read eight.

Bilbo walked in, looking rather tired and grim.

“The results came back.”

The room silenced, watching him. He didn’t even know the verdict yet and already Thorin’s heart weighed on him, sinking to his stomach.

“We’re increasing the scope. No match on anyone living in the previous places where the murders took place—”

Bofur’s phone rang. He paled, pulling it out of his pocket. “Sorry, I’ll—”

“Who is it?”

“One of my girl’s guards.”

Bilbo held his hand out for the phone. He skimmed the message. He set it down with shaking hands.

“Get every available officer to eighty-five oh seven thirty-fifth avenue northeast, _now_!” he tossed the phone back to Bofur as they ran, calling others.

Bilbo was busy contacting a SWAT team.

Thorin’s hands shook as he went to his car, typing the address into the GPS.

 _Get a hold of yourself, Durin!_ He snapped at himself, slamming the steering wheel.

Minutes that felt like hours passed as he and others sped past traffic, arriving at a dance studio. He found Bilbo prepping the SWAT team for an infiltration. A bullet proof vest was pushed into Thorin’s hands. He slid his arms through it and zipped it up.

Bilbo gave their hypothesized description of the FTK to the team. Five minutes later, they entered the studio. Thorin’s heart pounded in his throat as they swarmed the studio.

If he weren’t fighting tooth and nail to not be afraid, he’d probably have agreed that their being here was almost akin to a game of Pac-Man. They were the ghost-people. Somehow, it seemed that their Pac-Man was better at avoiding them than Thorin ever was when he played the game as a child.

He and Bilbo’s group entered the main room. A blonde girl lay on the ground, a rope around her neck. No blood pooled at her feet, and both ballet shoes were still on her feet.

“Somebody call the EMP!” Bilbo shouted. Thorin fell to his knees, checking for breath or a heartbeat.

“She’s alive!” he announced, standing.

“He can’t have gotten far,” Bilbo said, running out the door. Thorin followed, sprinting down the steps to a fire exit. Tires screech against the pavement as they burst out the door to see a white Sedan with tinted windows speed away.

“No!” Bilbo shouted. “No! Fuck this! Fuck this!”

Thorin scans the street for something—anything—that could change their luck. His eyes rest on a security camera attached to a phone pole.

“Agent Baggins,” he said, “Big Brother’s watching.”

Bilbo glared at him, so Thorin pointed at the security camera. The grin spreading on Bilbo’s face was near fearsome. Thorin prayed the camera could give them something to go on. No matter how miniscule.

#

They got as clear an image a plate as they could with the car speeding off.

Which isn’t very.

Cadence Eagle had awoken from her coma in the hospital with her father being prepped. Once she had been calmed down, she admitted to having escaped her guards to go calm down after a fight with her stepmother at the dance studio she practiced ballet at.

She was attacked from behind, and she could not recall a face. She did say her attacker did not speak. She could feel the latex gloves against her cheeks and the burn of the rope chafing her throat, getting tighter and tighter. She wouldn’t say any more.

“Girl got lucky,” Bofur muttered, shaken. Dori patted his back.

Thorin didn’t think they were lucky enough. She was still attacked and the Killer managed to get away. The image of the plate would take a little while to clear up. He sat beside the others, a cup of coffee in his hand. Bilbo was conversing with Cadence’s father down the hall. What measures they intend to take to protect Cadence, Thorin could not say.

Bilbo walked back toward them, hands stuffed in his pocket. “He’s still out there,” he said, “But that doesn’t stop us from claiming this as a win. A little girl’s safe and alive.”

“And what becomes of her?”

“Witness Protection Services will take over her case. You can pull the guards off the girls and we’ll focus on Snow White and Rumplestiltskin.” He checked his wristwatch then tugged his sleeve over it. From the window, the mid-afternoon sun (a kind rarity this time of year) painted a golden glow around the hospital.

“We’ll claim whatever victory we have,” Bilbo sighed. “Reconvene at the precinct and we’ll run the plates when they’re clear enough.”

He left, but Thorin couldn’t relax if he wished to.

#

_She wept, hyperventilating through the gag. He hushed her, a sound akin to a fast wind passing through his teeth. He stroked her pretty black locks, trying to calm her. She wouldn’t calm down._

_“Are you thirsty?” he asked._

_She sobs, nodding._

_He pats her head and goes to get water, he mixing enough cyanide in the cup to kill an adult. Returning to the girl, he removed the gag. She does not try to scream and this pleases him. The others have taken the opportunity to cause noise. It should concern him that she doesn’t try to fight, but he doesn’t really care. "_

_Drink all of it now,” he instructs, pressing the cup to her lips. She opens her mouth, gulping down the poison._

_When the cup is empty he takes it back upstairs._

_Fifteen minutes later, he’s wrapping her corpse up in a blue tarp, held together with duct tape. He tapes an envelope to the tarp._

**_To the Huntsman_ **

#

The girl is Stacey Wellington.

Nine years old. There is one point five milligrams of cyanide in her system. Even if her death was quick, it’s still overkill. Bilbo’s hands shook so hard, he felt he’d rip the note taped to the body that had been dumped on the morgue steps early in the morning.

 _I hoped you enjoyed saving one princess,_ it read. _I return to you Snow White. I was nice to her. Most of the other girls were not as lucky, as I’m sure you know._

_The usual game is getting boring. Let’s mix it up. From now on, I’ll send you notes with my princesses, Huntsman. This is the first clue:_

_There are seven mills in Seattle._

_Which one will I use on Rumplestiltskin’s princess?_

_Yours truly,_

_The Big Bad Wolf_

He set it down, gloved fingers moving away from the evidence. He clenches and unclenches his fists, trying to regain even just a shred of composure. There’s too much to do. He can’t allow himself to get emotional over this.

Not _now_.

Not _this_.

Bilbo left the temporary office, grabbing his coat which slung in the nook of his arm. He halted at the door, nearly bumping into Thorin.

“The results on the plates just came,” he said, eyes shifting to the jacket. “Do you want them now or…”

“Walk with me,” Bilbo offered, striding past him. Thorin followed, opening the manila file.

“The plates are registered to a white Volkswagen Sedan belonging to a Dragomir Smaug,” he read, “Mr. Smaug reported the car stolen a week ago from his office. He didn’t know the car was taken until he left to pick up his daughter from school—”

“Daughter?” Bilbo asked, pausing at the door and turning to Thorin. “What’s her name?”

“Rachel.”

Bilbo’s blood ran cold. _R.S._ “Find out what you can about Rachel—and how many lumber mills are in Seattle?”

Thorin shrugged. “Don’t know. I get my lumber from the Home Depot.”

“I bet you it’s seven…I want a list of them by the time I come back with my tea.”

“Not coffee?”

“We just had another murder and coffee will only drive me off the wall. I need a Venti Chamomile.”


	5. Chapter 5

Bilbo tossed the empty cup of Chamomile in the bin just as someone knocked on the door. He looked up. “Detective Rison.”

“This just came my way,” Dori said, holding up an evidence bag. Within it was a letter. Bilbo held his hand out and Dori gave the bag to him. “The coroner found it and called me. Figured you should know.”

With pliers, he took out the message. _Waterfront._ He swallowed, opening a new internet page. While it narrowed down the list of possible places FTK could take the Rumplestiltskin girl, five possible locations was still a large scope.

“What does it mean?”

“That we’re closer,” Bilbo stated, leaning back and rubbing his eyes. “But not close enough. Where are you and the others at?”

“We’re working on seeing if there’s some common ground where the FTK might be passing on a daily basis. Seeing if any of the girls had something in common we missed.”

Bilbo nodded. “Fair enough.”

Thorin appeared behind Dori. His skin was paler than before. Even a little green. “Smaug’s here. Brought his daughter with him…he was picking her up from school.”

“And this shakes you up because…”

“She goes to my niece’s school. The girls are together right now.”

Bilbo stood. “That probably doesn’t mean anything at the moment. But it’s something to look into.”

“I’ll get on that then,” Dori said, patting Thorin’s shoulder. Bilbo stood, fixing his jacket.

“Do you want to come with me? It could be a while.” Thorin nodded and they headed to the front. Smaug was a tall man with high cheekbones and wavy black hair. He sat nervously: arms crossed, one foot tapping the ground in a fast beat. Two girls sat beside him deep in conversation. One was an auburn haired girl, about ten if Bilbo were to guess, with freckles. The older, a brunette with brown eyes and an easy smile, spoke animatedly with the freckled ginger.

Bilbo’s blood ran cold. Smaug had not seen them yet. He pulled Thorin aside. “You’re niece is the brunette, I suppose?”

“She is.”

“Why the hell didn’t you mention she fits the Dancing Princess?”

“I know how to protect my niece.”

“You’ve not even _dreamt_ of facing a psycho like the one we’re up against,” Bilbo hissed. “You’re system may have worked in the past, but it’s not enough. How many other girls do you know about?”

“Just Kili and now Rachel. And last I checked, the Dancing Princess is the fifteenth victim. Not the seventh. So tell me: is Rachel the Rumplestiltskin girl?”

Bilbo sighed. “Yes. She’s fits the Rumplestiltskin girl to the letter.”

“Then let’s just work to make sure Rachel is protected,” Thorin suggested. “So far, there hasn’t been any indication that the Fairy Tale Killer is after Kili.” Bilbo rubbed the back of his neck.

“Fine. But after we do this, you’re niece is getting out of the city and going under FBI protection. Is that clear?”

Thorin grit his teeth, breathing slowly. “Yes, Sir.” He followed Bilbo to the lobby. “Mr. Smaug?”

Smaug looked up at them with piercing blue eyes. He stood. “Detective.”

“This is Agent Baggins from the FBI.”

“I’m not quite sure why the FBI is interested in a stolen car.”

“Normally we aren’t,” Bilbo said. “Could we talk in private?” Smaug followed them into an interrogation room.

“Am I under arrest?”

“No, Sir,” Thorin assured him. “It has more to do with your daughter than it does your car.”

“We don’t know who the thief is per say, but we can tie him to over fifty homicides,” Bilbo added, sitting down. “We have reason to suspect that a serial killer who made Seattle his new hunting ground stole your car and very well may have targeted your daughter.”

“What?”

“It was not subtle at all.”

“The Fairy Tale Killer?” Smaug asked. “You think he’s after Rachel?”

“We _know_ he’s after Rachel,” Bilbo said. “Stealing your car, us finding it and knowing whose possession it’s currently in…he wanted us to know.”

“Why? A serial killer wouldn’t like him wouldn’t display his work until _after_ the murder’s been done.”

“Normally, yes,” Thorin agreed.

“He’s bored and has been for a while,” Bilbo added. “He’s making it quite clear to us he wants to play games with us.”

Smaug leaned back in his seat. His hands shook. “Eventually he’ll move up to tougher game,” he said.

“What makes you think so?” Thorin asked.

“I’m a psychologist.”

“And a criminal profiler.” Bilbo smirked. “I took liberty to do a little research into your work. You’re book on Gary Ridgway is fascinating, by the way. Haven’t finished it yet…”

“Thank you.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes. “When do you even have time to read?”

“I take breaks once in a while.”

“To read? Most would sleep.” Bilbo shot him a scathing look.

“If I could sleep, I would,” he sighed. He could go on about how the bastard kept calling him and leaving various different messages, most leading nowhere. All unnerving. He directed his attention back to Smaug. “We can move Rachel to a safe house. A team of body guards can keep you and your daughter well protected until we catch him.”

“Won’t he just choose another girl, then?” Smaug asked.

Bilbo shook his head. “It’s not likely. He’s very specific about the kind of girl he wants.” Thorin’s phone beeped and he stepped outside.

“Do what you must,” Smaug said. “Just protect my daughter.”

“Of course.”

Thorin poked his head back in. "Baggins, can I see you outside for a moment?”

Bilbo furrowed his brow. He stepped into the hall. “What?” Thorin handed him his phone.

_Put my Miller’s Daughter into custody and the Dancing Princess will be next. You’re call, Sir Lancelot. Give the Huntsman my love—Mordred._

“What the hell is this?”

“Him.”

“How does he have my number? How could he know?”

“I don’t know, but have the number from this message traced. We’ll find him. Can I trust you to keep your cool when we do?”

“Define cool?” Thorin growled.

“At least recognizable,” Bilbo said. “Give the coroner an easy job so we can all go home at the end of the day.”

Thorin sighed, nodding. “I can do that.”

“Nothing will happen to either of those girls,” he promised. “I won’t let it. This the first time he’s contacted you?”

“Yes.”

Bilbo bit the inside of his cheek. “I knew he was watching us, but _this…_ he must be someone who has direct access to the building. I want a list of new hires. _Today._ Put…Bofur on it.”

He paused, frowning. He leaned forward, beckoning Thorin to join him.

“You and Smaug take your girls to dinner or something,” he whispered. “But I want both of you back here. I’ll have a detail set up for both of you. Uh…Thorin, do you have any other family members?”

“Kili’s older brother. No one else.”

“Get him here. Tell him it’s urgent or whatever will get him here as fast as possible.”

Thorin nodded, walking away. Bilbo entered the room again. “Mr. Smaug, have you any other family members? A wife? Maybe another child?”

He shook his head. “Rachel’s adopted.”

“Okay,” he took a pad out, and writing a note. “That’s all for now, you and Rachel can go home.”

_I want you and Rachel back here no later than seven o’clock. Go eat dinner, pack up, whatever you need to do. An armed escort will escort you and Detective Durin’s family to a safe house which will be set up by then for both of you._

Smaug nodded, standing. “Thank you.” Bilbo watched both families leave.

“Bilbo!” Dori called. “The trace went dead. Burner phone.” Bilbo sucked in air, exhaling slowly, massaging his forehead.

“Okay. Where’s Bofur?”

“Office.” Bilbo strode past him to Bofur’s office.

“How’s that list coming?”

“Still putting it together, but almost done. You’ll have it in…half hour tops.” He grinned. “Some things have to go right once in a while, right?”

“And about time,” Bilbo agreed, managing to smile dryly.

_Now to set up that detail…where is Gandalf?_

#

_He knocked the man out, blood dripping from his bat._

_T_ _he girl screamed and kicked. He covers her mouth and nose with a cloth dipped in chloroform._

_“Shh-shh-shh,” he whispers in her ear. “Good girl. Go to sleep.”_

_He lifts her up in his arms, walking to the back of the house where he parked his new car. He ties her hands and feet together with duct tape and gags her before stuffing her into the trunk and driving away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to figure out who Kili is…especially since there are no princesses whose name starts with K (save in the Lion King, but that’s not a traditional fairy tale as it’s based off of Shakespeare plays). HOWEVER the Twelve Dancing Princesses is and not one of princesses in that story are given a name. 
> 
> Gary Ridgway, aka the Green River Killer, active in the Seattle Area in the 80’s and 90’s.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers from the Rumplestiltskin fairy tale. Just thought you should know.
> 
> Here's a link to the story if you're interested: http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/Rum.shtml

Bilbo’s eyes shifted to the door every few seconds as soon as the hands pointed at seven and twelve. Thorin and his family were already here. Where were the Smaugs? Bilbo nibbled his lip. His foot tapped against the floor and he couldn’t sit still.

“They should have been here by now,” Dwalin mumbled.

“They knew to be here,” Bilbo agreed. “And Smaug doesn’t seem to be the sort of man who’d put his daughter in danger.”

“Course not,” Dwalin said. “No good parent is stupid enough to risk their kid. Kids tend to be the most precious things to them.” Bilbo agreed. Too many times had his parents assured him he was well behaved when he could name _ten_ and more times he had driven them both batty.

“That worries me more,” he admitted. “They’d have been here by now.” He barely finished speaking when his phone rang. Bilbo looked at his cell’s screen.

_Unknown Caller_

He opened the message.

_"The devil has told you that! the devil has told you that!" cried the little man, and in his anger he plunged his right foot so deep into the earth that his whole leg went in; and then in rage he pulled at his left leg so hard with both hands that he tore himself in two._

Bilbo’s eyes widened. He jumped to his feet, striding to Gandalf’s office. “He has the seventh girl.”

Gandalf lowered the cigar in his mouth. “Where?”

“Five possible locations.”

“Assemble five teams then, each headed by one of your men. I got SWAT. You contact your AD.”

Bilbo, in his haste, had not closed the door, running to Thorin’s office to tell him of the change in plan.

“You two, _stay here_. I mean that,” Thorin growled at two teenagers, sending a scathing glare in the boy's direction, before following Bilbo out the doors.

The police sirens scream as they leave the station.

 _All hands on deck: a little girl’s life is in danger,_ the scanner recited.

 _Team one to 1600 Armory Way, report to Detective Broadbeam. Team two to_ _1039 Elliott Avenue West_ _, Report to Detective Rison. Team three to 3528 Sixth Avenue West, report to Detective Durin. Team four to 2821 Second Avenue, Report to Detective Fundin. Team five to 2600 Northwest Market Street, report to Special Agent Baggins…_

#

3528 Sixth Avenue West was between Nickerson Street and West Ewing Street just barely out of Seattle Pacific University’s main campus grounds and a block or two from the canal between Lake Union and Salmon Bay.

Thorin tightened the bullet proof vest around his torso, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple.

 _Do what you can, but this must be by the book_ , Bilbo had said, _I don’t want any fucking screw ups. Find her. Save her. Bring her home. An ambulance is already headed to her home to find her father._

He had not mentioned what to do if they were too late.

Thorin relaxed his shoulders, leading the team inside, gun and flashlight before him. The building was dark and smelt of wood finish. He motioned for them to spread out. No room left unchecked.

He himself found a staircase. Thorin lead two others downstairs. They heard a scream, then the whirring of blades. Thorin skipped steps.

Rachel was chained at the wrists and ankles to a bench. A buzz saw whirring and cutting off her cries. She was gagged, struggling against the cuffs. Thorin swore, looking for the off button on the switchboard. The saw stopped, but Rachel kept screaming, a finger pointing up at the windows. One was open. The two officers he brought with him were busy freeing her, using a bolt cutter to break the cuffs.

“We found her,” he reported to the others. “Rachel’s alive.” He shone his light on the window, ignoring the whoops on the other end. He grinned. “FTK escaped, but he cut himself.”

 _“Is there enough for a blood sample?”_ Bilbo replied.

“Maybe,” Thorin said, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling an ambulance here to look at Rachel and after that, a forensics unit.”

_“Good work, Detective.”_

“Detective Durin.” He turned to the officer, who handed him two envelopes.

 _Open this one if she dies_ is the first one. _Open this one if she lives_ is the second. Thorin grit his teeth, blood running cold.

“Baggins.”

_“Yeah?”_

“He left more messages.”

_“Put them in an evidence bag and we’ll open them at the precinct.”_

The letters were taken away to be sealed as evidence while Thorin made the promised calls. Rachel was wrapped in a blanket and carried up the stairs. Outside, the crowd of curious college students and others stared, clearing the way for the ambulance and forensics team as they drove up.

Rachel shook, eyes red from tears and her nose dripped.

Thorin sat beside her at the ambulance. “Hey, Rachel,” he greeted. “You’re going to be okay now.”

“Where’s my dad?”

“Someone’s checking on him right now. What do you remember?”

Rachel swallowed. “Not much. I remember Dad getting knocked out from behind and then I was grabbed. A handkerchief covered my nose and mouth and I couldn’t breathe well and then everything went black. When I woke up I was here and a man in a scary mask had just finished tying me up. I heard the door open and I screamed. He pushed a button and the saw…”

Rachel closed her eyes, breathing heavily. Her lips were red and wet as saliva coated them. More tears trailed down her cheeks. Her cheeks and nose were blotchy. Snot dripped out her nostrils.

“Okay, okay,” Thorin soothed, taking a thing of pocket tissues from one of the medics for her. “He climbed out the window and cut himself, so we are going to find him. Do you know what the mask was? You said it was scary.”

Rachel blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “I think it was a werewolf mask.”

“Okay. Thank you, Rachel.”

“Can I go home now?”

“Not yet. You’re going to go to the hospital. Your dad might already be there. You’re going with people who will keep you and your dad safe, okay, Princess?”

Rachel stiffened.

“What is it?”

“It’s just…Dad calls me that.”

#

“He has a clear profile,” Bilbo snapped.

“Which any girl can match,” Thorin said. “What if a nickname their parents give them narrows it down significantly? How many parents and guardians address their daughters as ‘Princess’? I know I do. Rachel said that her dad calls her ‘Princess.’ What about any of the other girls? I’m not one hundred percent ready to put my money on it, but I am sure if you asked them, they use ‘Princess’ as a nickname as opposed to any of the other parents. Most might go with ‘Pumpkin,’ ‘Sweetie,’ ‘Honey,’ ‘Darling,’ ‘Precious’…‘Princess’ is not a very common nickname. Would it hurt to check?”

“No,” Bilbo said. “It won’t. But…nicknames between parents and children are usually very private.”

“But some are gender neutral.”

“And others are very gender-oriented. Tell me what you called your nephew. Or what you used to call him.”

“Sport.”

“Why that?”

Thorin furrowed his brow. “Pardon?”

Bilbo smirked. “Why use a common boy’s nickname for your nephew but one that you think is partially unique for your niece?”

Thorin shook his head. “Uh…”

“If asked who you’d care for more, would it be Fili or Kili?”

“That is not fair.”

“Here’s what I know: most of these girls are only children. Most of them are raised by single fathers. Mother’s either dead or divorced. They may have a stepmother. The fathers are either rather well off or barely making ends meet. And quite a few of these men are good men who love their daughters to death. Their daughters are elevated and put on a pedestal and these men will do anything for their daughters. Does that fit you, Thorin?”

Thorin couldn’t respond. He didn’t know how. He never thought about it before.

“I think it does. You have two children. One’s almost a legal adult and soon will be off to college. The other is just entering her teenage years and you’re freaking out because your niece, you’re little girl, is growing up and you wish it weren’t inevitable. The girls aren’t the only victims. The fathers are to.” Bilbo’s eyes sharpened. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“He was a father. The Fairy Tale Killer had daughter!”

“You think he killed her?”

Bilbo entered his office. Thorin followed. “I don’t know. He might have. But if so, why? Why kill the one person he valued above anyone else? If not, who did and what was their motive?”

Thorin leaned against the door. “Even if he did, we still don’t know who he is. Or why he’s doing this.”

“Exactly,” Bilbo grinned at him. “We were acting on an assumption that he was some nutjob who’s got a thing for killing little girls. A type of pedophile who gets off on killing these girls without actually raping them or turning them into his objects. But maybe it’s nothing to do with sex or some whacked out fantasy world. Or it does…I’m not sure.”

“You should write this down,” Thorin suggested, slightly perturbed by Bilbo’s excitement.

“I should write it down.”

“Nor does it explain why he keeps texting you and leaving you messages.”

Bilbo shrugged. “In his mind I’m the huntsman. He calls himself the big bad wolf.”

“Little Riding Hood…in two fairy tales, Little Red Riding Hood being one of them, the villain is called the Big Bad Wolf.”

“And is killed by a character called the huntsman in the same story…” Bilbo scoffed. “He wants to be caught. He wants to be stopped.”

“That makes no sense.”

“No it doesn’t…” Bilbo scratched his chin. “The letters that were with Rachel—you said there were two?”

“One for if we failed to save her and the other if we succeeded.”

“And we succeeded. I want to see that letter.”

“It’s not been opened.”

“All the better.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Congratulations on another job well done_ , the letter began. _But in saving one, three will be lost. Three little piglets will be fed to the Big Bad Wolf._

_One where Bells toll. One with the Queen. One on the Hill._

_Save all three in twenty-four hours, one for every eight, from midnight to midnight and I’ll hand myself in with paws in the air._

_If even one is lost, you’ll just have to keep trying to find me._

_Signed—_

_The Big Bad Wolf_

Bilbo had locked himself in his office, screaming and throwing things against the wall.

To a Seattle local, the hints were amazingly easy and Thorin wanted to tell him so. Their leader would not listen in his distress, so Gandalf had sent Dwalin, Bofur, and Dori to keep an eye out in the areas.

Thorin had been asked to remain at the precinct with the others until Bilbo calmed down so they could tell him they were well on to stopping the FTK. Gloin handed Thorin a cup of coffee.

“How is he?”

“Calmer,” Thorin said, looking at the office. “But he hasn’t come out and I’m a bit afraid of going in.”

“Can’t blame him for getting stressed,” Gloin mumbled. “Chasing a lunatic like this…it can’t be good on his health. He’s tired half the time. You’ve seen the bags under his eyes, right?”

“I have,” Thorin raise the cup to his lips and drank. “The FTK moves fast. I think he feels he can’t keep up.”

Gloin scoffed. “This task force he put together managed to save two girls. If you’re lucky, you’ll manage to save another eight.”

“I don’t think that matters to Bilbo,” Thorin mumbled. “He’s been chasing him nearly all over the country. His count’s over fifty now and Bilbo doesn’t have a partner to work with. Didn’t you notice that?”

“I did.”

“Until he got us on the case, how long do you think he’s been working on it alone with no success? He’s stressed and maybe a lot of parents are blaming him for not getting their girls home alive.”

“That’s nonsense.”

“People get irrational when their loved ones are taken from them.”

They sat in silence, waiting for the door to open. Gloin patted Thorin’s shoulder. “He likes you most,” he said. “He might let you in. And you want to go in.”

“What are you getting at?” Thorin growled. Gloin snorted.

“Durin, you’re not that subtle. You may think you’re being discreet, but we all see how you look at him. He’s looking too and no one here cares unless they’re an asshole.”

“I thought you were evangelical.”

“And Gimli was only five when he started asking if it’s okay to like boys,” Gloin said, shrugging. “Threw me for a loop. But he’s just a boy and this is the twenty-first century. When there was a great change before, it was all about the justification of slavery in the Bible and everyone knows that it’s BS to take that literally _now_.”

“So…”

“Well, according to my research, the Bible never condemned a loving relationship between two people. Some people are just different and I love my son as deeply as you do your niece and nephew. My wife and I are still looking for a new church because of how our old one reacted to Gimli’s sexuality.

“A lot of people I once thought I knew would say you’re unfit to be a parent because of your own sexuality, Durin, but I’ve seen those kids of yours. Fili may be a pain in the ass, but he’s a teenager and he acts like it. Kili adores you as if you really were her dad. You’ve only ever done your best and it shows. You’re a good man and a very good cop.

“That FBI Agent in there likes you, but he’s tired and he’s stressed and it took him a lot of effort to even _ask_ for help. We’ve had two victories since he did and both were snatched away right under our noses. He’s drowning right now and I think you might be the one to reach him. So go ahead. He needs a little hope.”

Thorin stared at the door. He didn’t think he had been obvious about his preferences at all. He never thought it’d matter…

He stood and approached the door, knocking. “Baggins? Bilbo, may I come in?” He twisted the door knob and it clicked open. “Bilbo?” he pushed it open slowly and entered.

Bilbo had huddled in the corner, his head bowed and covered with his arms as though he was protecting himself. Thorin closed the door, careful not to step on the glass and the papers carpeting the floor. He knelt before Bilbo, unsure what to do.

He swept away the debris around Bilbo and sat beside him. He could feel Bilbo shake beside him and every so often, a choked sob. Carefully, Thorin wrapped an arm around Bilbo. _That is as far as I go_ , he told himself. _No further than this._

Bilbo shifted, laying his head on Thorin’s shoulder. His eyes are closed, lips worried to dark red, cheeks streaked with dry tears, and lashes wet.

Thorin wondered how young Bilbo really was. How long had it been since he left Quantico and was stationed in Boston? He didn’t think Bilbo would be traveling this far unless his superiors thought he could handle it. And he was doing well enough.

Everyone had an off day. Thorin could name several where he wanted nothing more than to scream and bellow because of a difficult case.

Bilbo opened his eyes, the whites of his eyes pink from crying. “Sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” Thorin squeezed his shoulder. “Look, the hints were ridiculously easy and I’m sure we’ll manage to get the guy. Has he cheated so far in his own games?” Bilbo shook his head. “So if we win this one, we’ll have stopped him.”

“I can’t do this.”

“You managed this long. You’re tired. That’s all. When was the last time you slept?”

“Can’t sleep. He’s watching me. I know it. So I can’t sleep.”

“Look at me,” Thorin commanded. Bilbo obeyed, startled. “I’ll protect you. So get some sleep.”

“The office…”

“It’ll get put back together,” Thorin promised.

Though how made him wonder. Bilbo seemed to have a terrible temper when angry. Or was this merely the result of his sleep deprivation? Bilbo closed his eyes again, breathing deeply. Thorin stood, lifting Bilbo and laying him on the couch. He sat in a chair which had been lopsided in Bilbo’s fury. Thorin’s cell rang and he answered it.

_He’s beautiful. Don’t you agree, Lancelot?_

It came with a picture. Of Bilbo. He was younger, probably college age. Someone Thorin could not see knelt between the younger Bilbo’s legs.

Thorin snapped his phone closed. His heart raced and he tried to banish the image from his mind, massaging his temple.

His eyes never left Bilbo and he worried himself wondering where and how the FTK could have gotten that picture. He’d have to delete it.

 _There’s nothing scandalous about it_ , he told himself.   _Nothing wrong. It’s normal._

His phone buzzed again. Thorin ignored the text. He didn’t want to read it. Or look, at the picture attachment. He kept his eyes on Bilbo, trying to forget what that picture was and that it made some dark emotions claw into his chest and grip his heart.

 _No point in being jealous of something that happened in the past_ , he told himself. _And it changes nothing. Nothing at all._

The other thought that gnawed at Thorin was, _Where did the FTK get that?_ His phone kept buzzing, taunting him. It demanded his attention and he made to turn it off with shaking hands.

_Jealous? I am._

Thorin growled, finally managing to turn his phone off.

He leaned forward holding his head in his hands, focusing on his breath and _not_ on the idea of someone else having sucked Bilbo’s cock. And he _especially_ was not thinking about how it might feel to have Bilbo’s cock in his own mouth, for him to driving the other man to the edge.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He groaned, digging his fingers into his scalp and fighting off tears toward a betrayal that never happened. His brain knew this and recognized it as silly. But his heart pounded against his chest, as anger which felt righteous, but he knew really wasn’t, pulsed through his being. He inhaled, eyes closed, trying to calm down.

Whatever the FTK had planned, Thorin wasn’t going to give into his antics. He wasn’t going to let the bastard toy with him. He stood, planted a soft kiss against Bilbo’s brow, and left, intending to get some water.

Gloin was talking to Gandalf when Thorin emerged from Bilbo’s office.

“Thorin, is everything all right?”

 “You look like the devil whispered in your ear,” Gloin said, brow furrowed.

 _He did whisper_ , Thorin thought. “He’s asleep. I’m just a little shaken up…”

Gandalf hummed, puffing on his cigar. “Are you sure?”

 _Stop being so insightful, Old Man_. “I’m sure. Can I please just get some water? And be sent to the field? I’d really like to work right now.”

“No,” Gandalf said. “Go meet up with your kids and get some sleep. Gloin too.”

“But Bilbo—”

“Is an adult. He’ll be fine.”

Thorin did as Gandalf told him, albeit grudgingly. The picture continued to plague him, demanding his attention until he gave in, locking the door to his room at the hotel.

(Kili and Fili were taking advantage of the TV to watch some sort of horror show Thorin would rather they not watch—Kili especially—but was too preoccupied to enforce his will.)

He undressed and dove under the covers. He lay on his back, covering his eyes with his arm, biting his lip. He bit his lip, rubbing his palm against his thrumming groin. Thorin bit back a whine.

He wasn’t going to deny finding Bilbo attractive. Nor would he deny having fantasized about him.

Thorin groaned, gripping his erection. His arm pumped up and down and his eyes fluttered closed. Images of his own making filled his head. Bilbo naked beneath him, knees touching shoulders, eyes closed and mouth open in ecstasy. Bilbo propped up on his hands and knees, exposed to Thorin’s scrutiny. Bilbo straddling him, riding his cock…

_Bilbo…_

Thorin gasped as his climax pulsed through him. He breathed deeply, hand still gripping his now flaccid cock. He swallowed, cutting off his airway for a moment as he gathered his wits.

After he cleaned himself up, he reluctantly turned his phone on again. There was one text. From Bilbo.

_Where are you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The places that are hinted are: Belltown, Capitol Hill, Queen Anne.


	8. Chapter 8

Bilbo knelt beside the corpse. A hand still poked out of the sheet covering it. The girl’s father was being questioned. How she could have swallowed poison, where she got it, whether things at school had been tough, any enemies, potential enemies, supposed friends…routine questions.

Bilbo picked up the hand, checking the fingers. Nothing here. He stood and examined the other hand. The index finger looked like it had been stabbed with a needle.

He stood, making swift motions over his neck. Thorin walked up to him, ducking under the tape. “What is it?”

“We lost the game,” Bilbo said. “Where were you?”

“The chief sent me home. Sleep well?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, kneeling by the body again. “Too well,” he growled, lifting the sheet.

The girl was pale in complexion, eyes closed her hair flaxen gold. “Meet Serena Boyles, the Sleeping Beauty girl. Thirteen years old. Cause of death yet to be determined by the coroner, but if she’s who I think she is then she was injected with potassium cyanide mixed with arsenic.”

“I thought Sleeping Beauty’s name in the story was Aurora.”

“Other versions of the tale called her Briar Rose,” Bilbo reminded him. “He probably decided it was easier to just base her off her initials from the title.”

This is Capitol Hill, didn’t Bofur—”

“They had scoped this area _twice_ during the day. This was called in just after they began their third round on this block. Either we don’t have enough cops to spare…”

“Or he’s sneaky.”

“We managed to find the other two girls, so that brings us up to four girls safe. He’s still out there.”

“Who’s next on his list?”

“Rapunzel,” Bilbo sighed. If there was any other way to die on that list that was as bad as the Rumplestiltskin girl, it was the Rapunzel girl.

“Do I want to know?”

“Scalped.”

“Alive?”

“He knocks her out, hypes her up on some drugs so she feels only a pinch and dies from blood loss.”

“Why not do that with the Rumplestiltskin girl but not the Rapunzel girl?”

Bilbo shrugged. “He tries to make the murders as different as possible. Some are similar, but still different. Three die from poison, two from drowning, three are mauled by animals, two get their feet mutilated, three are hacked up in some way, and two are thrown to their deaths in some way. It’s _how_ that’s different.”

He shook his head, dropping the sheet and standing.

“Is there anything about the Rapunzel girl that will help us find her before he catches her?” Thorin asked. Bilbo nods.

“You know how victims usually come from single parent households?”

“Yes. They’re single fathers.”

“This one is a single mother. Goes with the tale that Rapunzel was taken from her parents at birth and raised by a single woman who locks her away, supposedly for her own protection.”

“Gothel,” Thorin said. Bilbo arched an eyebrow. “I saw _Tangled_ with Kili,” he explained.

“While I understand why you might have agreed to put yourself through that, I’m going to pretend you didn’t just admit to watching Disney crap,” Bilbo said, nose wrinkling.

Those versions of fairy tales and whatever else they could get their hands on were all lies. Bilbo was kind enough to keep that away from the children, but he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone on his team base their knowledge of fairy tales off _Disney._

“She wasn’t really a princess, you know, and her rescuer was a prince. _Not_ a thief. Go ahead and think it’s cute, but we’re dealing with twisted killer using twisted folklore. I’m just grateful he didn’t decide to imitate _Hansel and Gretel_.”

Thorin shook his head, looking slightly paler. “I refuse to go there.”

“Good.” Bilbo strode away from the corpse.

“Where are you going?”

“To the station,” he snapped. “We need to find out who the Rapunzel girl is and soon. If we’re lucky, he hasn’t found her yet.”

#

_He watched from the crowd, eyes fixed on the two men standing by his last girl._

_The Huntsman was leaving, he said something to Lancelot, walking backwards three steps before turning around, heel spinning him forward and continuing to his rental car._

_He licked his lips, eyes switching to Lancelot, who spent at least a quarter of a minute to watch the Huntsman go before getting back to work. So far, he had not been a threat. It didn’t seem to him that that had changed much. But he had seen him last night before he ran out of the Huntsman’s office. Lancelot had definitely been bothered by what he shared with him._

_Whether it had the exact results he wanted or not, it had results and it sent him away for a little while. It was close enough._

_He took his new phone out and typed:_ I know what you did last night _._

_He didn’t, actually. But he could guess Lancelot did do something he might not want the Huntsman to know. And from the way Lancelot’s head snapped up from his phone after seeing the message, scanning the crowd, he was right._

_Lancelot looked at his phone again, punching the buttons and his phone buzzed in his hand. He frowned. He wasn’t stupid enough to check his messages in the middle of the crowd when Lancelot’s hawkish eyes were on it. And no one dared to respond to him yet. They thought it’d be a way of provoking him._

_He would not let himself be provoked by his own chess pieces._

_He slipped away from the scene, hiding behind a wall and answered his phone._

I’ll kill you if you touch him and my family.

_He shivered, a smile gracing his face._

_“I look forward to that day.”_

_He slid the phone into a garbage bin as he walked to his car the next block over. After entering the car, he took a voice changer and a tape recorder._

#

The girl’s father had been as unhelpful as he could get. Thorin couldn’t blame him, though. The poor guy did just lose his only family, but he seemed unable to quite believe it. He kept mumbling to himself, staring at his hands.

“My princess,” he whimpered, fresh tears spilling out of his eyes. “My little princess.” He then hunched over, shoulders shaking from tears.

Thorin let the grief counselor take over because there was simply nothing he could do, except feel a fear that if they didn’t stop the FTK _soon_ , it might just be him in that chair, unable to grasp reality. That frightened him. Especially since Fili would be in the one in worse shock. He left to get something to drink and to calm his nerves. He halted, backtracking to his office.

“Fili?”

Fili turned to him. “I figured I’d wait here.”

“Where’s Kili?”

“Back at the hotel with a uni.” He held up a piece of paper in his hand. To Thorin’s chagrin, it was the list of girls. “Number fifteen, the Dancing Princess. Those are Kili’s initials. That’s her description. And someone is planning to kill her.”

“I told you I was working a dangerous case—”

“A case in which someone is after my sister?!”

“I’m _not_ going to let anything happen to Kili.” Fili scoffed. “Fili—”

“I did a little looking into who the Fairy Tale Killer is while waiting for you. How many victims survived so far since he showed up? Why is this being kept from the media? Has he been caught yet?”

“We didn’t want to begin a panic. If we let the media in, they'll swarm the place. No work would get done.”

“You could have _told_ me it was the Fairy Tale Killer! I’m eighteen, Thorin! I deserve to know!” Fili roared, slamming the page down on the desk. “Is he after Kili? Tell me the truth!”

Thorin balled his hands into fists. “Yes.”

Fili scowled, blinking. “And you just weren’t going to tell me?” He shook his head. “ _Typical_.”

“Fi, Ki will be fine. Nothing is going to happen to her.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“Four girls have been rescued so far.”

“Compared to how many? Fifty? Maybe a little more? This guys going to go down as the new Ripper if he’s not caught.”

“He’ll be caught.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he fucking _wants_ to be caught,” Thorin yelled. “Why? I don’t know! He’s a lunatic, Fili! He’s fucking nuts! There’s some shred of sanity left in him that’s telling him it’s wrong, and it’s reaching out to us!”

“C’mon! You don’t believe that! He’s toying with you and you’re all so tired and he’s got you running around in circles, you don’t even see it!”

Thorin massaged his eyes. Fili might be right, and most of their theories about the FTK came from Bilbo and he’d been chasing the man for ages.

“You know what: I suggest looking into the Greenwood versus Massachusetts case,” Fili said, striding out the door. “That guy went crazy after his daughter was raped and murdered by three college boys. He hacked them up with a butcher knife and was admitted into Arbour Hospital’s psych ward after his trial. He escaped one night and a month or so later, the Fairy Tale Killings began in Boston.”

Thorin stared at him.

Fili scoffed again. “Like I said, you’re all so tired and he’s got you running around in circles, you don’t know where to find him or ever got any close to finding out who he is. He doesn’t want to be caught. He wants to mess with you. And with how frazzled everyone looks here, he’s winning whether you saved a couple girls or not. You want to know more about what happened to make Greenwood go coocoo for cocoa puffs, talk to his son.”


	9. Chapter 9

Two weeks.

And nothing. All possible Rapunzels and their mothers were in police custody.

Yet the FTK hadn’t made a move. No notes, no cars waiting outside schools, no phone call or texts. Bilbo didn’t understand it.

_What is he doing?_

For now, he scrolled through the Greenwood v. Massachusetts case. Thorin wouldn’t tell him when he discovered this or where or how—other than that he figured that fresh eyes were needed.

Thranduil Greenwood, formerly a botanist. Wife died in childbirth leaving him twins: a son and daughter. He hired a nanny to help him take care of them while he worked at Arnold Arboretum of Harvard University. If asked, he’d claim to love both of his children equally, but there was an obvious difference in his treatment of Tauriel compared to Legolas. Especially as they got older.

The twins were athletic. Both were skilled archers and fencers. Legolas preferred skateboarding, and had participated in various skateboard competitions. Tauriel was a tomboy to the bone. Soccer, softball, basketball, volleyball—she did any sport she could get her hands on in any season. Both were studious. Not straight A exactly, but their GPA were still above a 3.0.

Despite their similarities, Tauriel seemed to have the easier life of the two. Thranduil doted on Tauriel more than Legolas. She could, possibly, get away with more. Her intelligence and preference to different sports must have aided her elevation in her father’s eyes, Bilbo decided.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing, Bilbo figured, though he didn’t know. He was an only child. But his observations of the victims’ fathers were that their daughters were beyond dear to them. Some of these men were large and hardened men with tats, leather, and wild hair and he saw them break down when told their daughters were dead—they looked as though their world dissolved to ash. Men who seemed like they hadn’t cried a day in their life broke into a sobbing mess.

He wondered…

How many of these fathers could go mad from the grief as Thranduil did when his daughter’s body was found? Or maybe it wasn’t then…maybe it was during the trial against the boys who brutally assaulted and murdered her in said assault. Tauriel was a strong girl at thirteen, but even then, she wouldn’t have been strong enough to fight off three twenty year old boys.

 _No_ , he decided. _Thranduil didn’t show any sense of losing his mind until the boys’ were acquitted. Why were they acquitted? No judge in his right mind would have let these boys off—_

Bilbo groaned, leaning back in his seat. The judge must have been corrupt or the jury was. Maybe someone who held political sway interceded…

How it was possible for these boys to be released for their crime didn’t matter. They did and Thranduil took justice into his own hands. Bilbo wouldn’t blame the man for that. He couldn’t say he’d not do the same thing. He knew just by looking at Thorin that he would as well, consequences be damned. No one would get away with hurting the Durin family if Thorin had any say.

Maybe that was when he lost his sanity. If it was ever lost in the first place. With how fast the FTK moved, Bilbo sometimes thought he was insane. It was odd for a killer completely in control of their actions to move as fast as the FTK did.

And why did the boys go after Tauriel? Did they want vengeance against her father? Where they drunk and somehow saw Tauriel? Or was it simply just complete, unadulterated malice?

Jolted from his thoughts by a knock on the door, Bilbo sighed and turned to the intruder. “Yes?”

“Legolas is here,” Bofur announced.

Bilbo bit back a groan. He didn’t want to put the kid through this. He stood and followed Bofur into the room. He had chosen Bofur to join him in the interrogation as he was the best with children.

Legolas Greenwood slumped in his seat, arms crossed and staring at the table. In the room were two men. The older of the two, Bilbo guessed, was Thranduil’s cousin Elrond who became Legolas’ guardian after his father was admitted into the hospital. The other must be their lawyer.

“Thank you for coming,” Bilbo said, sitting across from Legolas. Bofur leaned against the wall. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want to drag the kid back into this. “Do you know where your father went after he escaped Arbour Hospital?”

Legolas shook his head. So he didn’t go looking for Legolas…

“Is there anything you can tell us about your father? Maybe your best guess to why he left the hospital?”

“He’s not crazy,” Legolas snapped, glaring at Bilbo.

“Maybe not, but he was admitted to Arbour for Complicated Grief Disorder.”

“Because of what happened to my sister. I know.”

“Would you like to tell me about your sister?” Bilbo asked. Legolas shrugged. “What were her favorite fairy tales?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.”

“She grew out of them, but she was a huge Disney princess fanatic when she was little. She started reading Brothers Grimm stuff when she turned eight.”

“Cinderella, Snow White, Rumplestiltskin, Little Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, Goldilocks, Sleeping Beauty, and the Twelve Dancing Princesses?”

“Yeah,” Legolas looked a little surprised that Bilbo knew them. “Her favorite nursery rhyme was Little Miss Muffet. She really looked up to Ariel from _the Little Mermaid_ , Belle from _Beauty and the Beast_ , and Jasmine from _Aladdin_ because they were the most outspoken Disney Princesses she knew of when she was little. She did a report on _Alice in Wonderland_ at least three times for different classes. Why?”

Bilbo glanced at Bofur, mentally begging him to take over. Bofur made no move, so he turned back to Legolas, wishing he didn’t have to tell the kid this.

“Your…father’s a suspect in an ongoing multi-state murder investigation. Several girls have already been killed mimicking your sister’s favorite fairy tales.”

Legolas pales, and his eyes widen.

“Legolas,” Elrond said, “How about you step out for a bit?” His glare at Bilbo demanded no contest, and Bilbo didn’t try.

“C’mon lad. The hot chocolate’s not that bad here,” Bofur said, leading Legolas out.

Bilbo counted the beats before Elrond finally spoke. “You have _no_ right to tell him that. Not after everything he’s been through.”

“And I wish it _could_ have been avoided, but he deserves the truth.”

“He’s fourteen!”

“It doesn’t change anything. I understand your wish to protect him, and I wish I could have agreed to keep it from him. But it won’t change anything. I am sorry if you believe I overstepped. I have a job to do and it so happens that my job right now is to stop the Fairy Tale Killer, even if it is his father who is my only suspect so far. What would you have me do?”

 _Tell me what you would have me do instead,_ Bilbo thought, _because at this point, I don’t know._

#

Kili pulled on her jeans, making it easier to cross them in her seat. Not exactly comfortable, but doable. She turned the page of _The Hunger Games_ , not looking up until she sensed a presence approach. Kili lifted her head and grinned.

“Hi, Bofur.”

“Hello, Kili,” Bofur responded, beaming. The boy beside him sat down, a cup of steaming liquid in his hand. “Waiting for your uncle?”

“Yeah…And I finished all my homework already, so I’m catching up on this.”

“Looks to me you’re almost done.”

“Yeah…Mr. Rison suggested it, but I might just go ahead and finish reading _The Outsiders_ if Thorin takes any longer.”

“Do you like _The Outsiders_?”

Kili turned to the boy. Her face felt warm.

The boy was pale. His flaxen hair was short and lightly spiked. He had a straight nose. His eyes were bright, sky blue. He wore dark blue jeans, muddy sneakers which were once white, a grey hoodie, and beneath that a black t-shirt.

She nodded.

Bofur let them be, heading to talk to Dori.

“I wish Dary was nicer, but other than that…”

“You just started it?”

“Yesterday?”

“It gets better and Dary has his reasons. It’s not easy for him being the oldest brother and even if Ponyboy is the smartest in the family, that only puts more pressure on him and Dary became his guardian at, like, eighteen or something. That’s _going_ to put a lot of stress on a guy.”

“I guess…but I can’t imagine my brother being like that with me! I’m Kili Durin, by the way.”Kili held her hand out to the boy.

He smiled, gripping her hand. “Legolas Greenwood.”

“Why are you here, if you don’t mind me asking? Does your mom or dad work here?”

Legolas shook his head, his bright eyes dimming and frown turning down. “My dad…is doing something wrong. There’s an FBI agent here who’s been chasing him.”

Kili felt her heart drop, heavy as lead, to her stomach. “Oh. I’m sorry. But you met an FBI agent. That’s cool.”

Legolas shrugged. “He doesn’t seem that cool, but I guess he _is_ in FBI agent. So yeah, I guess it’s cool. I was just expecting more Fox Mulder or Seeley Booth.”

“You watch _The X Files_ and _Bones_?”

“You like ‘em too?”

“ _Love it!_ Especially _Bones_! What d’you think of last season?”

“Pellant needs to die.”

“So true! I can’t believe he’s so petty that he’d—”

“Kili, little sister of mine, who is this?”

Kili glared at Fili, bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “His name’s Legolas,” she said. She turned back to Legolas, beaming. “This is my brother, Fili.”

“You’re…brother’s threatening to pummel me,” he said. Kili rammed her elbow in Fili’s direction, but hit only air as he jumped out of the way.

“I’ll go see if Thorin’s ready to go,” Fili sighed, leaving them alone for the moment.

“Sorry about him,” Kili said. “Fili and Thorin both think I shouldn’t date.”

“They’re just being protective. I had a sister too and my dad was the same with her. Unless I was there at least, no boys were allowed in house.” He took out a notebook and wrote something down before ripping the page.

“I think the only reason Thorin and Fili would enforce that is because they want to be there just to be threatening. Fili’s a fencing champion and Thorin’s a cop, so he has a gun.”

“Well, now I _have_ a reason to be scared, don’t I?” Legolas asked, smirking. Kili blushed.

“ _Kili_!” Thorin shouted. She jumped, looking at him and sighed, her shoulders slumping.

“Legolas, let’s go,” another man, taller than Thorin and leaner, said.

Legolas stood. “It was nice to meet you, Kili,” he said. They shook hands again. Kili remained as neutral as possible at the feel of paper between her fingers. He waved, leaving with the man.

“Did you have to be so intimidating?” Kili snapped at her uncle. Thorin only smirked.

“We’ll have pizza tonight.”

“I won’t be easily bought!”


	10. Chapter 10

_He tugged on the hood of his coat, leaning against a light pole, eyes on the station._

_His breath hitched._

_Why was Legolas here?_

_What were they doing?_

_Had they identified him?_

_How had they identified him?! _

_Thranduil shook his head and turned away from the station, pulling his new phone out, dialing Bilbo’s number. He ground his teeth, foot tapping the ground. He glanced behind him while the phone still rang and walked away from the station._

“Baggins.”

_“You had no right to pull him into this!” Thranduil spat._

“Who is this?”

_“Who do you think?”_

“I did not involve him,” _Bilbo said._ “And thank you, for pushing my fifty percent surety of your identity to one hundred.”

_He sounded far too smug for Thranduil’s liking._

_“You’ll regret this,” Thranduil growled, shutting the phone off before they had the time to trace him, tossing the phone in the trash._

_He watched Elrond, Erestor, and Legolas drive past._

#

Bilbo’s smirk turned into a sneer, lowering his hand from his ear, knuckles white from holding the phone too tightly.

“Forget the trace,” he said. The others paused, staring at him.

“Is it Thranduil? Were we right?” Dori asked.

“Spot on. He didn’t like us talking to his son.”

Thorin hummed. “I’d not like it either, personally, if it were me.”

“But you’re nothing like him!” Bofur shouted.

“Actually, I think Thorin and Thranduil are very much alike. I’d hate to see what sort of person you become when you’re family is threatened.” Thorin shrugged, frowning. Bilbo supposed no one wanted to be compared to a serial killer. He’d not have liked it either and made a note to apologize to Thorin about it in private.

“For now, we need to find the Rapunzel girl. Bofur, Dori, that’s your task. She’ll be blonde with blue eyes and long hair. She’s probably growing it out as a wig donation or has been for a long time. Dwalin, I want you to send a photograph of Thranduil to the media and what not. Tell them only what is necessary. I don’t want them breathing down our necks. Thorin, could I have a word in private?”

Thorin stood, following him away from the others.

“I’m sorry about putting you on the spot like that,” Bilbo said. “I never intended to insinuate that you could go rogue.”

“I know. And you’re right,” Thorin stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I would probably become the devil himself if it meant protecting my family.”

“To be fair, I’d not blame you,” Bilbo sighed. “But it’d not change that I’d have to stop you if it came to it.”

Thorin shrugged. “Hopefully I’d be able to stop myself before then.” Bilbo smiled. He swore he saw a tinge rouge Thorin’s cheeks, but Thorin checked his watch instead.

“Is there anything you need me to do?” he asked. Any trace of the barely there blush was gone.

 _And why would he be blushing anyway?_ Bilbo couldn’t fathom it.

“You could help Bofur and Dori. Dwalin’s task won’t take too long and I intend to have him join you three after he’s told the Times what we know.”

“Wouldn’t that normally be your job?”

“Why would I willingly talk to the media? I get awful stage fright.”

#

Thorin slumped his shoulders and leaned against the door on entering the hotel room he shared with Fili and Kili, breathing the tension out of his body.

“Hi, Thorin!” Kili chirped, grinning at him. She lay on her stomach on the couch, phone in hand and dressed in baby blue pajamas with penguin cartoons.

“Hello, Princess,” he kissed the top of her head. “Have you and Fili eaten yet?”

“Fili ordered Pizza.”

_Not again…_

“Did you have—”

“Yes, we had veggies,” Kili stuck her tongue out, her evident distaste showing. Her phone beeped and she hastily replied.

“Who are you texting?”

“Legolas.”

Thorin groaned. “Kili, I thought I was very clear about boys—”

“He’s just a friend! Jeez, uncle, we aren’t dating.”

 _Might as well be._ “How old is he again?”

“Erm…fourteen…maybe fifteen.”

“ _Fifteen?!_ ”

“Uncle Thorin, relax. We’re just texting. What’s the worst that can happen?”  

Thorin grit his teeth. “Fili!”

He emerged from the kitchen. “What?”

“Remind me what is going to happen if a punk were to show interest in your sister?”

Fili leaned against the wall. “Well,” he scratched his chin, “He better be able to run off somewhere he can’t be tracked because I’ll most likely beat him to death and I think you, dear uncle, agreed to cover everything up and dispose of the body.”

“Sounds about right.”

Kili sat up, legs crossed. “You know, that attitude right there is _exactly_ the kind of thing that hinders the feminist movement. That Fili could date as soon as he hit puberty and I have to wait until I’m eighteen is rather sexist.”

Thorin clicked his tongue. He’d have to word this properly or risk hanging himself. “Well, being that I’m not the _only_ father-figure out there that has such a rule, it is hardly sexist, Kili.”

“True. There are a lot of good guys but also a lot of bad guys,” Fili added.

“And because of that, it’s sometimes hard to tell the difference. Fili and I don’t always _know_ how to tell one from the other.”

“And as a rule, teenage boys are usually not trustworthy. I should know.”

“And so should I.”

“You’re both jerks,” Kili growled.

Thorin took the phone out of her hands. “And you’re not texting this boy anymore. Mostly because I don’t know him and the other portion has to do with his father being a serial killer.”

“Apples don’t tend to fall very far from the tree,” Fili added.

“But Legolas is nice!”

Fili and Thorin exchanged glances. “We don’t care,” they said in unison. Kili stood and stormed from the room as dramatically as possible. They winced when she slammed the door to the bathroom.

“That was fun,” Fili admitted. They winced again and the shrill, angry scream from within. Thorin nodded. It kind of was, even though he felt a little bad…“I should go finish my homework.”

“Yes, you should.”

Fili disappeared into the kitchen again. Thorin sighed, checking the message history. Just back and forth talk about family—seems Kili’s been ratting on Fili and Legolas has much to say about his older cousins.

 _Innocent so far_ , he thought. _Good_.

Thorin turned the phone off and set it on the coffee table before going to see if there was some left over pizza available. Three slices and two breadsticks were reserved in the frig, so he heated it up, listening to the microwave and the scratches of Fili’s pencil against a workbook. His laptop was open and three text books were piled up.

“Since when are you this studious?”

“When there’s nothing better to do and exams are around the corner.”

“Ah. And Kili…” The microwave beeped. Thorin took out his dinner and set it across from Fili before getting something to drink

“I helped her with Math. She keeps getting distracted and talking about the book Ori is making her read. I don’t know about you, but I _never_ understood _The Outsiders_.”

“Until now, I never heard of it.” Thorin sat down and began to eat.

“Gang violence.”

“What?”

“The book has gang violence.”

“And I read _Wuthering Heights_ in high school. And _Jane Eyre_. Creepy, crazy ladies in attics and skeletons in closets…”

“Okay, fine, but is it really okay for Kili to read that?”

Thorin shrugged. “That’s something to discuss with her teachers. And there are _worse_ books she could be reading. It could be _Twilight_.”

“Oh, yeah. I wouldn’t survive having a twihard for a sister.”


	11. Chapter 11

Phantom lips pressed against him, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin and a tongue would dart out to soothe it. Nails dug into his shoulders. His own hands rested on the slight waist, firm, but gentle. Thorin turned his lover over so he would be on top of him, thrusting deep and slow. Legs locked around his waist and the nails retracted. Hot hands rested on his neck—

_Help!! Uncle Thorin!! Help!! HE’S GOING TO KILL ME!!!_

Thorin shot up, drenched in sweat. His erection had died as the dream shifted to the nightmare. He threw the covers off, striding to the room the kids shared.

Fili was up and in the shower, getting ready for another day at school.

Kili was still asleep, peaceful and safe. Thorin sat on the edge of her bed, pressing a shaky kiss to her forehead.

“Thorin?”

“Did I wake you, Princess? Sorry.”

“No. I was waking up already.” She sat up, rubbing dust out of her eyes. “Still sleepy though.”

Thorin smiled. “How about pancakes?”

Kili frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong?”

“You only cook breakfast when you’re scared. Is it the case?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll catch them. You always do.” Kili grinned at him before yawning. Thorin kissed her forehead again.

“Thanks, Ki. How about you get ready for school?”

“Isn’t it Saturday?”

“In three days.”

Kili groaned and fell back onto the bed.

Thorin patted her knee. “Chocolate chip pancakes.”

“Fili, Thorin’s being evil!” Kili shouted. Thorin chuckled, leaving the room, the ensuing conversation over _how_ pancakes could _possibly_ be a prelude to a diabolical scheme or something ringing in his ears.

#

_You opened a can of worms. Her death is on your hands.—The Big Bad Wolf_

It took all his self restraint not to rip the note to shreds in his fury. Bilbo handed it as calmly as he could to Bofur and knelt, balanced on the balls of his feet, running a shaking hand through his hair. The girl was unrecognizable. They managed to identify her as seven or eight.

But she’d need to be taken to the coroner for a more accurate identification. 

Bilbo battled through rational and irrational thoughts. One being a vow to kill the son of a bitch. Another, well…

_Why did he skip Rapunzel?_

The bear who had eaten most of the remains roared pitifully from within its cage. Its fate was sealed. Animals that attacked humans were usually killed. Completely normal all around. Bilbo pitied the bear.

“So…which girl is this?” Bofur asked. “Goldilocks?”

 _Gee, I wonder what gave it away,_ Bilbo thought cruelly. He reigned in the biting remark and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “He must have found the Rapunzel girl before we did and killed her already.”

“We’d have found her body by now if that was the case,” Bilbo sighed. “He didn’t choose a Rapunzel. I don’t understand. _Why_ change the M.O. now?”

“Maybe to prove he can be spontaneous if he likes.”

“No, he doesn’t change,” Bilbo stood, ignoring the throbbing in his legs. “Somewhere in this city, a girl was scalped and now there’s another mauling.” Bilbo pulled his coat tighter around him. The air smelled of rain to come. “Bofur, call the others for a meeting, we have three girls who are going to be killed before he leaves.”

Bilbo walked to his car. He slid into the driver’s seat and beat the wheel before laying his forehead on his hands, tears blinding him while warming his cold hands. His phone beeped, alerting him to a new message.

 _Let’s play a game,_ the message read. _I will give you the Princesses names. See if you can get to them in time, Huntsman. One girl. One day. The game begins at sunset next Sunday._

_Dana Gundebad_

_Taylor Fyfe_

_Kilian Durin_

Bilbo stared at the message, a feeble sense of hope pushing its way into him. He laughed. God forgive him, but he laughed. These girls could be protected.

He could save them.

#

“I want to know why he would deliberately give us the names of his last three victims,” Thorin said, leaning back in his seat. “It isn’t really sensible.”

“No, but it does eliminate the guesswork,” Dwalin said.

“Given that Thranduil is telling the truth.”

“He hasn’t lied yet,” Dori reminded him.

“And that,” Bilbo said, “is exactly why we can trust that these are the girls he intends to kill. Besides, we already knew that Detective Durin’s niece was the most likely candidate for the fifteenth girl.” Thorin grit his teeth, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. “He hasn’t lied to us yet. So let’s get the girls.”

“Taylor and Kili will be easy,” Dwalin said. “But Dana…”

“What about Dana?” Bilbo crossed his arms, frowning.

Thorin leaned back in his seat. “She’s Bolg’s daughter. Bolg Gundebad’s father, Azog, is heavily involved in drug dealing, money laundering, murder cover-ups…”

Bilbo stared, brow furrowed. “You mean to tell me that the next victim, the Dorothy Girl, has ties to the mafia?”

They nodded.

“The girl’s already got three hired gunmen around her,” Bofur added. All with criminal records. And Bolg himself is involved in some shady activities.”

“But we can’t pin him or his dad. We have no concrete proof,” Thorin reminded them. Bilbo scratched his chin, nibbling his lip.

“We let them know,” he said. “We get a meeting with Bolg or Azog and tell them exactly what’s going to happen beginning next week. So…what do we have to do to get a meeting with either of them?”

Three pairs of eyes shifted to Thorin, who tried to shrink. “Don’t look at me.”

“You have the most interaction with them.”

“That grudge was extremely unhealthy and we both came to an agreement.”

“Agreement?” Bilbo asked, frowning. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

Thorin groaned. “My family has been in police service for generations,” he began. “When Azog was an up and runner dealer and gang leader, he killed my grandfather. My father swore revenge and went up against him a few years after he got his detective status. Also died. I did the same, cost the guy his hand, and the water remains over the bridge since, but for some reason Azog claims to like me so he’s agreed to a standstill and,” Thorin scoffed, “believes he’s letting me live is an act of his mercy and it remains that way so long as we stay out of each other’s way. My helping you meet with him might be seen as getting in the way.”

“Dana Gundebad,” Bilbo snarled, “is eleven years old.”

“I never said I wouldn’t get you there. Only that I’m not going in because buttons are bound to be…” Thorin swallowed. “Fine. But I’m calling ahead so his lackeys don’t try to kill me for walking onto Azog’s turf uninvited.”

“Thank you, Thorin,” Bilbo said. His smile seemed more sinister than it ought to have. Thorin glared back. It was bad enough he had to contact Azog. He pulled out his phone.

“Shall I call them now?”

“Sooner we meet with Azog, the better.” Still glowering, Thorin dialed a number and held it to his ear.

_“Misty Mountains Laundromat.”_

“This is Durin. Tell your boss I need to meet with him. I’m bringing one other person with me. We’ll come unarmed.”

_“The party’s at midnight at the Bellevue location. Formal dress. I’ll make sure your name’s on the guest list. Have a nice day.”_

Dial tone rang in his ear. “Midnight at the ORC in Bellevue,” he said. “He’s having a party there.”

“The ORC?” Bilbo repeated.

“Ontario Resort and Casino It is one of his businesses. We need tuxes.”

“Seriously?”

“Do you want to go in there looking like a cop? I don’t. That would cause unnecessary panic and the less panic, the better.”

Bilbo’s lip curled. “Fine.”

“Have fun at the nearest Men’s Warehouse,” Bofur said, smirking. Thorin resisted the urge to swat the back of Bofur’s head.

#

_The figure turned the lights on._ _Thranduil slapped his hand over the mouth. His quarry tried to scream, thrashing until consciousness was abandoned._

_“I’m sorry.”_


	12. Chapter 12

Thorin fiddled with the cufflinks, frowning as they defied his will.

“Having fun?” Bilbo asked, smirking where he leaned against the wall.

“Shut up,” Thorin growled. He never had a problem with his big hands before, but the cufflinks were just _too damn tiny_. A smaller hand took his wrist and the cufflink was twisted into place.

Thorin glanced at Bilbo. His curls had been tamed, falling back in waves behind his ears. Misty eyes refused to look at him, fixated on his wrist. His eyelashes were rather long and dusty in color. His pale skin was dotted in freckles Thorin hadn’t noticed before. Bilbo had yet to fix his tie, so the two top buttons remained loose, exposing the curve of his neck. He hadn’t donned the jacket and the white waistcoat remained unbuttoned.

A soft buzzing bounced around in Thorin’s head. His throat felt tight and his face warm.

Bilbo's eyes rose to meet Thorin’s. “Give me your other hand,” he commanded, already reaching for the left wrist. Thorin allowed him to take it and those eyes shifted to his wrist again. Sooner than he’d like, Bilbo released his wrist, the cufflinks successfully put in place.

“Thanks,” Thorin mumbled, hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as he felt.

Bilbo smiled. “You’re welcome,” he said, fastening the two top buttons before picking up a black necktie with dark green stripes.

“No bowtie?”

“I _despise_ bowties. Never been able to master them. Besides, I’d rather _not_ look like _Dr. Who_ , even if I like the show. At least Matt Smith make them look good. Besides, you’re not wearing one either.”

“True. But I’m _not_ wearing a waistcoat.”

“I like waist coats,” Bilbo snapped indignantly, scowling at Thorin. “Besides, aren’t waistcoats a part of a tux? You have one.”

“I do, but I’m not wearing it. And, unlike _someone_ I can mention, I will be wearing a bowtie.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes, buttoning the waistcoat. “Suit yourself.” He picked up the jacket, sliding his arms through the sleeves.

Thorin unconsciously licked his lips, staring at Bilbo. He blushed, turning away to pick up his own jacket. “Ready?” He winced, thinking his voice a bit too husky. _Damn it, Thorin, he’ll be gone once Thranduil is caught. Get a hold of yourself!_

“Yes.” Bilbo strode past him, his trench coat held in the crook of his arm. “Is there anything I should know about Azog or Bolg before we meet them?”

Thorin scratched his chin. “Well, Azog’s right arm is a prosthetic.”

“Didn’t you shoot his hand?”

“I did. But the back alley doctor he went to was shit. His arm got infected and then amputated just below the elbow. As for Bolg, we have a higher chance of convincing him that we only want to help, so I’m really hoping we’re dealing with him rather than Azog. Anything pertaining his daughter’s health and wellbeing will get his attention. Tell him there’s a serial killer on the loose and his daughter is next will make him listen. Even defy his father’s orders if he doesn’t agree with Azog’s decision.”

“And his wife?”

“She passed away a long time ago. Gang war with the Goblins. Dana was three years old. Bolg never remarried as far as I know.” They entered the car. “What I want to know is why he’s decided to go after a mobster’s granddaughter,” Thorin mused. “He never has before, according to your files. He must know the risk.”

“I don’t think he cares anymore,” Bilbo sighed as Thorin drove out of the parking lot. “He seems to think that we declared war when we involved Legolas. It’s possible, but I’ve no intention of using the kid to get to Thranduil. In targeting Dana, he may be trying to illicit another show down between the police and Azog’s gang.”

“Yeah, it would do that,” Thorin sighed. “If we fail, Azog and Bolg will blame us for Dana’s death. It’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Oh, wonderful. No pressure then.”

“We managed to stop him a few times.”

“His success is still too high. If not for you digging into old cases earlier, we’d never have found his identity—”

“Actually that was my nephew,” Thorin admitted sheepishly. “He found out about the case and, since both of my kids are CSI fans and like to think they are amateur detectives, he suggested the Greenwood v. Massachusetts case as a starting point. If it wasn’t Thranduil, I was going to look around at other cases that were similar.”

“Huh,” Bilbo smirked as Thorin drove the car onto I-5 southbound. “Has he considered joining the FBI?”

“Not that I know of. My niece is rather vocal about joining the police, but I’d rather she not. I know it’s not all that rational to be so protective, but…”

“She’s twelve. It’s only natural you want to protect her. I’d be worried if you weren’t. What about your nephew? I suppose he’s older?”

“He’s graduating high school this year and filled two applications for a couple different schools: U-dub and Central,” Thorin grinned, swelling with pride. “He wants to keep close to his sister. If you think I’m protective, you’ve yet to really meet Fili. He might not act like it often, but he’s rather attached to Kili.”

“So…I suppose most of the rules you enforce are kept?”

“Only when it pertains to Kili…God, I’m not ready for her to be a teenager. Fili’s bad enough…”

Bilbo laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Sooner or later you’ll have to accept it.”

“Later,” Thorin beamed. “Definitely later. Preferably never.”

#

Thorin and Bilbo stepped out the car and the keys were handed to the valet as they walked entered the line.

“Durin plus one,” Thorin said, trying not to take a defensive position. The bouncer let them through and they were met by a burly guard.

“Durin.”

“Good to see you again too, Lurtz.”

Whatever else would be said is left unsaid as Lurtz leads them to a booth in the back of the casino. Three guards stood like statues, scanning the crowd.

Two men sat talking in hushed whispers.

The younger had black hair oiled back. His head seemed narrow. His one good eye were blue and the other was covered in an eye patch. He bit a cigarette between his teeth.

The older of the two was heavily scarred. Deep gashes lined both sides of his face, down to his lips. One deep scar was by his ear. His head was completely void of hair. Pale blue eyes narrowed on seeing them and he smirked, wrinkles mingling with the scars.

“Thorin Durin.”

“Azog,” Thorin greeted, stance stiff.

Azog motioned for them to come closer. “Who’s your friend, Durin?”

“William Baggins,” Bilbo greeted. He held his hand out. Azog stared at it before grasping it tightly in his hand. When the greeting ended, Bilbo flexed his hand by his side.

“You’re a cop?”

“Fed. Boston HQ.”

“What’s a fed from Boston doing on the other side of the country?” Azog asked, arching an eyebrow. “Does it have to do with…what’s his name again?”

“Thranduil Greenwood,” the man sitting beside him said, “The Fairy Tale Killer.”

“It does," Bilbo said, he pointed at a seat. “May we?”

“You may,” the man said. “Why do you want to talk to us about the Fairy Tale Killer?”

Bilbo stared at him, then Azog. “Your granddaughter is the next victim.”

Azog’s eyes narrow and his mouth narrows to a line. “What do you mean?”

“Thranduil likes to play games with his pursuers. He’s begun the last game. He gave me the names of his last three victims and Dana is next. Thorin and I are here to extend our services, should you wish to take up our offer.” Bilbo leaned back in his seat. “But it remains your choice, Mr. Gundebad. You’re free to refuse.”

“Would you suggest that I do that? Refuse?”

“No. I would not. I’m aware Dana has sufficient protection, but added police custody will increase our chances of catching Thranduil and save not just Dana, but two other little girls.”

Bilbo glanced at Thorin. He was still stiff, pale even. The dark look in his eyes showed he’d rather be arresting the men present instead of making deals with them. Bilbo understood, but Azog was not their priority. At least not now.

“Thank you for your offer. And for letting us know,” Azog said. The man beside him tensed, snuffing his cigarette. “But we can protect Dana well enough without cop intervention. My son and I will let you know if Thranduil makes a move. Enjoy the party, gentlemen.”

Thorin and Bilbo stood. “Thank you for your time,” Bilbo said. They left.

“So now what?” Thorin asked at the same time Bilbo asked:

“Will they blame us anyway?”

“Not likely. Azog may be a bastard, but he’s reasonable. Something happens to Dana, it’ll be her guards who take the heat, not us.”

“Good to know.” They passed through the doors. Thorin handed a ticket to the valet who left to retrieve their car. Bilbo stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It doesn’t feel right, not doing anything to protect Dana.”

“I know, but the less we cross Azog the better—”

“Durin!”

They turned around. The young man who sat beside Azog approached. “What is it, Bolg?”

“I want to take up that offer you presented to my father. Three o’clock tomorrow afternoon. King’s School. One _discreet_ car. I don’t want to cause a panic among our people. Understood?”

“All right. One discreet car, two extra men, undercover.”

Bolg glanced at Bilbo and nodded once at him before turning around and entering the casino again.

“What was that?” Bilbo asked as the car pulled up.

Thorin grinned. “Like I said before: anything that concerns Dana will catch Bolg’s interest and he’s not likely to underestimate anyone who targets her.” They climbed back into the car. “Azog is confident, but Bolg is cautious from experience. He doesn’t take risks unless he knows the outcome beforehand.” Thorin drove out of the parking lot and into traffic. “And he is especially cautious when it concerns his daughter.”

“Huh. Who are you going to have put on her?”

“A couple of undercover cops already infiltrating Azog’s group. It’s discreet enough and as far as anyone among them are concerned, Bolg or Azog issued them and Dana won’t panic if she notices them joining her guards.”

Bilbo hummed. “Won’t that ruin their investigation?”

“It might, but unless we have anyone else to spare…”

“I could get in contact with the FBI here,” Bilbo offered. “Let them know the situation.”

“How much will they like you coming to the cops instead of them?”

Bilbo laughed. “They’d not like that at all.”


	13. Chapter 13

Legolas grit his teeth, pulling at the duct tape binding his wrists behind the back of the metal folding chair. He grunted, close to crying in his frustration.

He halted, breath quickening when the creaking door swung open. A hand pressed to his cheek before moving to untie the cloth blindfold. Legolas blinked at the light. Though it was dim, he had been secluded in darkness for nearly an hour or two. Finally the shape standing before him focused.

“Hey, Bud.” Thranduil pulled the gag down. “How’ve you been?”

Legolas was torn between answering and spitting in his face. He settled for answering: “Okay, considering. Elrond’s a bit…strict. But considering Dan and Ro, it makes sense.”

“You’re not skipping school are you?”

“Elrond thought it’d be easier on me if I was homeschooled. The tutor’s named Lindir.”

“Is it easier?”

He nodded. “Dad, could you let me go?” he asked. “Everyone’s gonna panic if they notice I’m gone.” Thranduil said nothing, staring. “It’s not that I’m not glad to see you,” Legolas added hastily, “but the cops are after you, Dad, so—”

“I know.” Thranduil grinned. “What do you think of Agent Baggins?”

The FBI agent? Legolas shrugged. “He wasn’t what I expected. Is he tougher than he looks?”

“Much. But fun to mess with.”

“That’s not smart, Dad. I mean, he’s got a gun, doesn’t he?”

“Until he talked to you, he didn’t have a clue who I was. You see, most…killers move too slow, giving their pursuers the chance to find them. I _don’t_.”

“Dad, killing is immoral and unethical. You shouldn’t be doing that anyway. It made sense with those guys, but why are you _still_ killing? Please stop. Dad, you _need_ to stop.”

Thranduil averted his gaze, staring at the floor. Legolas worried he had said the wrong thing. Then Thranduil lifted his head, smiling.

“Are you hungry?”

Legolas shivered, he nodded. “Can you turn the heat on? It’s cold, too.”

“Sure, Bud.”

When the door closed again, Legolas renewed his struggle with his bonds. He half refused to believe his father was sick. But seeing him now, unrepentant of his crimes, Legolas wondered if everyone had been right and he merely didn’t want to believe it.

#

Bilbo massaged the back of his neck, groaning. He opened his eyes, hoping the field report he needed to type would disappear. It didn’t. Sighing, he finished the new entry just before Thorin’s knocking came to rescue him from the looming piles of paperwork.

“So, did you get your undercover buddies to…”

“Yeah, Azog offered a pay raise to whoever would protect the princess.”

“Are they supposed to take that money?”

Thorin shrugged. “Undercover cops are a different unit. I know the guys, drank with them a couple times, but overall I don’t know how they do what they do. I’ll let them worry about the money they get from the mob.”

“Well, with that done, Dana should be fine. I sent Dwalin and Dori to talk to Taylor’s family and your niece is at school with a squad car already tailing her. How does she like that?”

Thorin snorted. “Not one bit. She was scowling out the window the whole drive to school in said squad car. What’s funny is she used to _like_ riding in a squad car.”

Bilbo shrugged. He didn’t particularly care. “Well, she can suck it up until Thranduil’s caught—” Bofur skidded to a halt outside Bilbo’s office. “Where’s the fire?”

“Legolas Greenwood’s missing. His uncle’s filing the report right now.”

 _There goes any peace I could hope for,_ Bilbo thought darkly, following Bofur to the reception desk. Elrond fidgeted, drumming his fingers on the table as the uni filed the report.

“When did you notice he was gone?” Bilbo asked.

“Fifteen minutes ago—he likes to sleep in, so I wasn’t suspicious until then.”

Bilbo led him to the office. “Is it normal for Legolas to run off like this?”

“No. It’s never happened before. If he leaves to go anywhere he writes a note first and _always_ takes his cell phone. It was still on the bedside table when I went in and the bed was not slept in.”

Bilbo muttered a curse under his breath. He ran his hand through his hair, jaw tense and wanting nothing more than to scream. Instead, he focused on thinking.

“Thranduil’s been contacting us, playing games. It’s possible that he has Legolas,” he said, “Elrond, would Thranduil hurt his son?”

“No,” Elrond said. “I don’t think so. Tauriel was his favorite, but he loved them both. He wouldn’t hurt his own son, not after already losing his daughter.”

“Okay…where are you staying?”

“The Panama Hotel…uh…located at South Main Street and Sixth Avenue South.”

Bilbo turned to Thorin and Bofur.

“The Panama’s a ten minute walk from here,” Bofur said. “Dori likes the place for its tea. Not half bad.”

“That’s beside the point!” Thorin snapped.

“We will get back to the tea later,” Bilbo said. “Is there any place around there where Thranduil could hide out?”

“Not easily,” Thorin said.

“Pioneer Square’s just a hop and a skip away from here.”

“Right, isn’t that the fish market?”

Thorin shook his head. “That’s Pike Place Market.”

“Pioneer Square is a more like a culture center,” Bofur added. “History museums, art museums, tours, clubs…day and night life.”

Bilbo bit his lip, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. _I probably should have known that._ “Okay, but there has to be someplace he would stay…have anyone we can spare canvas anywhere within a five mile radius from the Panama. Hourly updates. _Now!_ ”

Bofur and Thorin jumped at the command. Elrond collapsed in a chair, shoulders slumped and pale. Bilbo sighed.

“We’ll find him,” he assured Elrond. “Go back to the hotel and wait for him. If Thranduil lets him go, he’ll be dropping him off there. Can you do that?”

Elrond nodded, standing. “Thank you.” Bilbo hadn’t anything to say to that. _Don’t thank me yet_ didn’t seem hopeful. _You’re welcome_ was simply awkward. He settled for nodding his head and leading Elrond to the door.

“A uni will meet you at the hotel. He or she will give me a call and if the kid’s up to it, I’d like to talk to Legolas, see if he can tell us anything that will pinpoint Thranduil’s location.”

“I’ll keep him available then,” Elrond agreed before stepping out the doors, swaying slightly on his feet.

Bilbo strode to Thorin.

“Unis are already heading out. Bofur’s contacting the other precincts,” Thorin informed him. “If you decide to expand any further West than the ferry docks, we’ll be involving the coast guard. Eastward takes us to the other side of I-5. North will take us up to Lake Union and South could go as far as the West Seattle Bridge.”

“Don’t involve the coast guard unless we absolutely must. Everything else is fine. When will Dwalin and Dori be back?”

“Taylor lives up in Shoreline, that’s about a thirty to forty-five minute drive in _good_ traffic. I can radio them and find out how long it’ll be for them to get back and give them the heads up while doing that.”

“Good,” Bilbo said, heading to his office. The field report glared back at him. He saved the file and closed it, bowing his head and leaning on the desk by his elbows, hands clasped behind his head.

His phone beeped. It took him a moment before he dared to glance at it.

 _Such wonderful heroes!_ It read. _But you should know, Huntsman, one knight of the Round Table is not so honorable. When he promised to stay close by when you were drowning, where was Lancelot? What did he do? His phone might answer that question._

_Truly,_

_The Big Bad Wolf_

Bilbo set it aside, too tired to care.

As the minutes passed, Thranduil’s message attacked Bilbo deep as an unreachable itch and he chewed his lip. _Why did Thorin leave?_ He thought. _Why does Thranduil care?_ Bilbo stood, poking his head out of his office.

“Durin,” He called.

Thorin glanced at him before approaching.  Bilbo stepped aside to let him in and closed the door. “Thranduil sent me another text.” He showed Thorin the message, watching his face.

Thorin’s complexion, already quite pale, changed to a sickly green which added to Bilbo’s suspicions. Thorin lifted his eyes. “I deleted it as soon as I received it.”

“Deleted _what_?”

He bowed his head and Bilbo’s adrenaline buzzed in his head.

_Oh God, what was it?_

“You and a lover,” Thorin began, “Or an old lover…he was…kneeling in front of you and—” he swallowed. “I deleted it and then left because I…I didn’t want to…I needed a moment to…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was jealous.”

The fear and rage building inside Bilbo fell away to confusion. “Why would you be jealous of someone you don’t…oh.”

“I didn’t act on…on how I feel because of the case,” Thorin said. “I didn’t know why he decided to…tell you about that. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to risk humiliating you, Bilbo. Please understand that is the _last_ thing I want to do to you because I…I love you. I don’t expect anything out of this. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but…I have no intention of betraying you.”

Bilbo held his hand out. “Give me your phone. I’d like to see for myself if what you said is true.”

Thorin did so and Bilbo flipped through the pictures. There weren’t many. Most of them were of his niece and nephew. None were of Bilbo, past or present. Satisfied, he handed Thorin his phone back.

“Have you contacted Dwalin and Dori?”

“Yes. They should be getting off the freeway right now.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

“Bilbo—”

“Go. Just go.” He waited for Thorin to close the door and closed the blinds before collapsing into his chair. He held his head in his hands, shivering. What would have happened had it been someone else who Thranduil decided to torment among the team? What would have happened if it were Dori or Dwalin or Bofur?

He was lucky it had been Thorin. Angry though he was, he could admit to feeling grateful that Thorin had decided to spare Bilbo’s reputation, protect it even.

Still, Thorin’s confession left a bad aftertaste in Bilbo’s mouth.

“What the fuck am I going to do?”


	14. Chapter 14

He moved methodically in his numbed state, focusing on nothing but work until clocking off. After which, he picked up Kili and headed home. The still rather evident ire in her eyes vanished on seeing Thorin.

“What’s wrong?” she asked warily.

“Nothing, Princess,” he said, wondering if he should have sent a squad car or Fili to get her instead.

Still, he suffered through her anxious and frightened gaze, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were bone white.

Back at the hotel, Kili immediately headed o the kitchen and Thorin locked himself in his room, sliding to the ground, shielding his face with a hand. Breathing became a challenge as his breaths grew shakier and his vision blurred with unshed tears.

The cold fury in Bilbo’s eyes earlier shouldn’t have affected Thorin so much. Thorin hadn’t any inclination to tell Bilbo about the picture Thranduil had sent him, let alone confess how he felt about him. He didn’t want to take that risk if he could have helped it. Thorin had grown lax as time had passed from the day Thranduil tormented him with that picture and now.

Thorin stood, walking to the bathroom. He splashed his face with water, trying to regain his composure. _I need to calm down. Make dinner, work, anything, don’t think about Bilbo. Don’t think about him. Under no circumstances are you to think about him._

He managed to do so, but there was little he could do about his red, glassy eyes save hope that neither of his children would notice. Sighing, Thorin left the room to make dinner with the same precision that had aided him through the day after talking to Bilbo.

Bilbo had avoided extended contact with anyone else since then, still demanding they find Legolas and would only venture out to receive updates from the cops now keeping an eye on Dana before returning to his office to do only God knows what.

He wasn’t letting his temper rule him, otherwise Thorin was sure a chair would have smashed through the window and startle everyone.

He felt Kili’s pondering gaze on him as he entered the kitchen to fill a large pot with water.

“Can I help?” Kili asked. Thorin turned, leaning against the counter. Kili had a leg tucked under her, staring at him through big brown eyes. “If it’s spaghetti, I can make it."

“No, thank you, Princess.”

“Is the case getting bad? Did the bad guy get away?”

“Well, he’s definitely elusive, but he keeps messing with our heads.”

“Is he a serial killer?”

“Yes.”

“Then whatever he’s been doing, don’t let it get to you because that gives them power. I can’t put it simpler than that.”

Thorin smiled. “True. I suppose we’ve just been chasing him for so long that we forgot that.”

“Glad to be of service,” Kili beamed. “Can I have my phone back?”

Now he laughed. “Nice try.” Kili groaned, annoyance mingling with the puppy eyes she sent in Thorin’s direction. He decided it’d be easier to resist this look by turning his attention back to making dinner.

#

_He leaned against the wall, hat hiding his hair, sunglasses over his eyes despite the weather deeming sunglasses insignificant and ridiculous. Thranduil sniffed, watching the men, burly and shady, walk by._

_The girl had curly cherry brown hair pulled into a messy pony tail at the nape of her neck._

_Thranduil slipped away before he was noticed by the girl’s guards._

#

Bilbo could not sleep.

True, the case had robbed him of this blissful necessity several times in the past. But to find that Thranduil had such a reach that he could dig into his _own_ past and use it to bring dissent among the task force—even make them turn against him—clawed at Bilbo like talons.

He figured it had to be luck that Thranduil decided to torment Thorin along with him in comparison to the others. He wished Thorin had told him about the picture earlier so they could work that out and set it aside, even forget about it.

Not knowing what the picture was of exactly bothered Bilbo. He hadn’t done anything like _that_ since college. The occasional lover here and there since, but he loved his work a little too much to really focus on anything else.

Then there was Thorin’s admission.

 _I was jealous…I love you._ _I don’t expect anything out of this. I don’t expect you to feel the same, but I have no intention of betraying you._

Bilbo groaned, getting out of bed, deciding to take a shower and review the case again (despite having done nothing _but_ that for weeks).

He didn’t want to fall in love or have anyone in love with him. He’d been hurt before and he didn’t want to be hurt again. But how to deal with Thorin’s confession?

He wouldn’t lead him on. He’d have to tell him no. He didn’t even _do_ anything to warrant Thorin’s affection nor did he think of the man romantically!

Bilbo scoffed, knowing from his past that he wasn’t usually one to fall in love first or pine. No—he always fell in love _after_ someone had expressed their interest in them. Usually never realizing he loved them until he was already pulling away.

His longest relationship had been about four months and that was because his partner at the time had been unhealthily needy and desperate. And breaking up with her had taken about another three since she would not leave him alone.

The picture, he supposed, was not of her. Probably one of his past male partners…

 _Stop thinking about it!_ He chastised himself, stepping into the stream of hot water beating against his back. He pressed his hands against the wall and bowed his head, pushing his conscious to focus on the case. And failed.

Thorin was, in a way, sinfully attractive. Bilbo wasn’t blind enough not to find those baby blues gorgeous. The black locks streaked with wisdom hair seemed soft and gleamed in a blue halo when light hit it. And the beard looked just as soft, displaying well defined cheekbones and his thin, pink lips which appeared more red than pink against the pale of his skin and the black of his beard.

The voice which came out of that mouth…

 _Stop!_ Bilbo slammed his fist against the wall. _I can’t allow this. Not again. Never again._

He washed and cleaned his hair before stepping out of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around his waist. Bilbo focused on dressing into something warm and comfortable before attacking his work.

The field report was still being edited.

Legolas was still missing despite how many unis were on the lookout for the boy.

Dana, Taylor, and Kili were still waiting for him and the task force to make Seattle safe for them again.

Thranduil was still at large.

The Rapunzel girl was still out there somewhere—since Bilbo couldn’t see Thranduil skipping anyone.

Bilbo sighed, staring at the table, covered in papers with neat, typed script or scrawled messily in his haste.

 _There has to be something here, nothing that explains why he likes to mess with me and the others, but maybe I can find_ something _that will help me find the Rapunzel girl at least…what if he’s always close by? How would he know what we’re doing or how we’re progressing with the investigation?_

Bilbo ground his teeth and rubbed his face with cold, shaking hands. _What if he’s been close to us the whole fucking time?_

Logically it made sense. Still, the idea of Thranduil being so close and taunting them made Bilbo afraid and angry at the same time.

His phone rang and Bilbo furrowed his brow, staring at it. Warily, he picked it up.

_Blocked Caller_

Bilbo pressed answer. “Baggins.”

“ _Agent Baggins?_ ”

“Yes?”

“ _It’s Legolas._ ”

Bilbo felt his blood chill. “Legolas, where are you?”

“ _I don’t…I don’t know exactly. I can see Safeco Plaza from where I am_.”

“Can you see any street signs?”

“ _Um…_ ”

“Any other tells?”

“There’s a library behind me.”

“Okay,” Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is the library open?” _Not likely._ He opened Google maps, typing in Safeco Plaza.

“ _No._ ”

Bilbo sighed. “Legolas, I’m sending a squad car to get you. _Stay there_. I’ll call you back in a minute.”

“Okay.”

It took about three minutes to get someone to arrange the car. Another three for Bilbo grab his coat and car keys before calling Legolas back.

“Legolas?”

“ _Yes_?”

“A car is heading your way. I’m heading to the station and I’d like to talk to you when I do. You’ll need your uncle and lawyer there. Do you want me to call them or should I?”

“ _I don’t think Elrond’s happy with me right now, but I can get Erestor_.”

“I’m gonna need them both there if I’m going to talk to you, Legolas. And your uncle’s just worried.” Silence. “Legolas?”

“Could you call them? I don’t have enough money to make another call.”

“Yeah—”

“ _I see a car_.”

“Squad car?”

“ _What else_?”

Bilbo smirked at the snarky reply. He couldn’t blame the kid and found it a bit more endearing than it normally would be. “I’ll see you in a few then.”

“ _Okay_.”

Bilbo waited for the static on the other end of the line to die before hanging up on his own end so to call Elrond.


	15. Chapter 15

“It was an hour or two ago when I got out. Dad hadn’t been back in a while and I was at an apartment building near the water. Colony Grand Pacific…I think.”

“Colonial Grand Pacific,” Bofur corrected, handing him a paper cup filled nearly to the brim with hot chocolate. “It’s next to the viaduct and Pier 56 is walking distance from it.”

“Yeah,” Legolas bit his lip, holding the steaming cup in his hands. “I just walked away from there, opposite direction until I found a payphone.”

“Legolas, it’s past midnight,” Bilbo said. “What you were hoping to do in running?”

“There’s no one around.”

“Seattle may be somewhat safer than Boston, but the dangers of walking around alone at this time of night are still the same.”

Legolas bowed his head.

“No one’s mad at you,” Bilbo assured him. “But you walked four blocks and then south one block. We just want to know why?”

“I couldn’t find a payphone and I asked someone where to find one. I didn’t think it’d be as bad as in Boston.”

“What matters is that you’re fine and that you called. Do you think your dad’s still at the Colonial?”

“Probably. I don’t know. He wasn’t there when I left. It was…um…apartment three B. I made sure to look before I left.” He lifted the cup to his lips, drinking. Bilbo drummed his fingers against the table, taking the moment to assess what he’d been told.

“Bofur?”

“Yes?”

“Call Dori, Dwalin, and Thorin. I’m gonna call a SWAT unit. We meet outside the Colonial.” Bofur let the room. Bilbo stood. “Thank you, Legolas. And you too, Elrond. I know it’s very late.”

“Right now, I just want to get the kid home to bed.” They shook hands.

“Agent Baggins?” Bilbo turned to Legolas. He bit his lip. “Can my dad be stopped?”

“Yes.”

“Will he be killed?”

Bilbo glanced at Elrond. He nodded and Bilbo shifted his gaze back to Legolas.

“The orders were to catch him dead or alive. He’s killed too many, Legolas, and his MO is brutal, and he’s moving too fast. I can’t promise he’ll be caught alive.” Legolas bowed his head, brow furrowing and lips twerking downward.

“I’m sorry, Kid.”

Elrond squeezed Legolas’ shoulders before leading him down the hall and toward the entrance. Bilbo entered his office and picked up his phone.

#

Dwalin handed Thorin a large cup of coffee. “You look like hell,” he said.

“Feel like it,” he admitted, taking a drink. He wrinkled his nose. “Folgers?”

“Starbucks isn’t open at three in the morning.”

“I prefer Tully’s anyway.”

“They’re not open either,” Dwalin snorted.

“I don’t care,” Thorin set the cup down, picking up a vest and threading his arms through the holes. “You owe me a better cup of coffee than that swill.”

“Fine, your majesty.”

“Durin, Fundin,” Bilbo shouted, beckoning them to join him, Bofur, and Dori. Thorin’s mouth dried with each step. “I want each of you to lead four teams at different exit points. If he’s here, he’ll be using one of the escape routes.”

They broke the circle, heading to do what they had been assigned, two black clad SWAT officers beside them. Thorin glanced back in Bilbo’s direction once for a brief second.

Bilbo slipped his gun back in his holster.

_To think I thought he’d do better as a farmer when we met._

Thorin turned away and joined the two officers already surrounding the east side exit. He didn’t like the idea of waiting for something to happen, but the likelihood that something _will_ was probably very slim.

#

“Storm the place in five,” Bilbo said, “Team One, surround apartment Three B and secure it, Teams Two through Five, secure the building. No one gets in or out.” He joined the teams, leading them into the building.

Three B’s door was closed. Bilbo leaned against the wall, turning the doorknob. The door creaked open. He released the gun from his holster and entered, barrel pointed at the floor. The officers swarmed in after him.

“Unit secure.”

“And Thranduil?” Bilbo asked.

“Not here.”

“Broadbeam?”

“ _No sign of him_.”

“ _Same here_ ,” Dori replied.

“ _Quiet on the West front_ ,” Dwalin added.

“Thorin?”

“ _Negative. Save for a cat_.”

Bilbo groaned, anger boiling. He urged himself to calm down.

“Okay. Let me know if anything changes.”

He turned the light on and the rage heating his body disappeared. He felt he had been dunked in ice. Wherever Legolas was held, it clearly wasn’t the living room. Fifteen pictures were pinned to the wall with schedules, timetables, descriptions, parent’s schedules, and a where and when they were killed or meant to be killed. Eight girls had been marked with a red sharpie drawing an X across their faces. The girls who were saved were given green checkmarks.

The Rapunzel girl was neither X’d nor checkmarked.

_Riley Griffin. Ten years old. Mother is Georgia Griffin—recently moved to Austin, TX._

Bilbo laughed, startling the others.

“Agent Baggins?”

“She got away before anyone could find her,” he mumbled. _But then why not choose another girl?_ Bilbo wiped his mouth, scratching his chin. _Did he just not have the patience or the time or—what?_ “Durin, Fundin, Broadbeam, and Riley, he’s not here. Meet me in Three B.”

_Did he just decide to skip for the sake of time? Was he worried we’d find him? But he was ahead of us the whole time, why skip? Was there just no other girl who fit his ideal for the Rapunzel girl? Either way, he skipped Riley…and we might be able to catch him before he takes his chance to go after Dana._

“Has he had it mapped out the whole time?” Dori asked, joining him at the wall.

“Seems like it,” Bilbo said, moving to another picture—this time of Dana’s, glancing through the profile Thranduil had composited. Bilbo tapped the paper where Thranduil had circled a note:

_School play, lead part. Grandpa insisted she continue to prepare for this despite increased security. Guards will be outside the dressing room._

“There’ll be other girls in there. And mothers.”

“Dana’s the daughter of a mob boss’s son. Maybe she played a card and got her own dressing room. He’d not take the opportunity to strike then otherwise. Either way, he can get her alone.”

“How long do we have?” Thorin asked. Bilbo jumped, glaring at him. “Sorry.”

 _How did he get so sneaky?_ “Just don’t do that again,” Bilbo snapped, ignoring the pleased look Thorin carried. “The play’s at seven, so…five thirty at latest.”

No answer. Bilbo turned to Thorin. He was staring at the last picture, so Bilbo looked at it. Kili’s beaming face stared at them.

 _Kilian Durin, twelve years old. Lives with brother and uncle…_ Bilbo skipped down to a highlighted note. _February 26 th: Hengda Dancing Academy._

“We will stop him. Your girl will be fine.”

“You can’t promise that.”

Bilbo pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. This wall, terrifying as he found it, was their hope. They could save the last three girls if they manage to catch Thranduil at Dana’s school play.

“For the first time since I started this case, we’re ahead of him,” Bilbo said. “We know where he’s going to strike and what he’s going to do. I won’t let him hurt your niece. We _will_ get him before that.”

“But you can’t promise that.”

He stared at the pictures of Dana, Taylor, and Kili. These girls were their last chances to get Thranduil. They knew now when and where he’d strike. However, where was narrowed down to a dressing room in a school (most likely meaning a classroom), a park north of Seattle, and a dance studio. The locations were too broad for an accurate idea of where they would really be located.

“Not one hundred percent,” Bilbo admitted. “No.”

Thorin nodded. “I thought so.”

#

_He dove back into the shadows, nearly dropping the bag of Chinese takeout in his hand. Had they found Legolas?_

_Or did Legolas escape?_

_Either way, they knew his plans. They knew. Bilbo knew._

_Thranduil grit his teeth, pulling his hat further down over his face and walking away, heart pounding into his chest. He wondered if—considering his thought that Legolas found a way out—he was betrayed. He shook his head._

_Legolas wouldn’t betray him. Not after everything. Thranduil was sure of it. Why would his son betray him anyway after how understanding he had been?_

_He pressed against a wall, hiding in the alley’s shadows as a squad car drove by. Thranduil closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Bilbo._

How much do you know?

_He barely walked another block when his phone beeped._

Who’s afraid now?—the Huntsman


	16. Chapter 16

Bilbo stretched, feeling more relaxed than he had in months. He had three hours to kill before meeting the others at King’s School, so he enjoyed the floating on air sensations he had been feeling since they discovered Thranduil’s “layer.”

He ignored the niggling thought in the back of his head saying that it was possible that Thranduil would adjust his plans and chose new victims.

And while Bilbo didn’t dismiss it entirely, he doubted Thranduil would act as such after all his planning. He’d be more careful, but they knew where he’d be.

_This ends tonight._

Bilbo finally threw the bed covers off and went to make coffee. The peace he felt vanished at the message scratched into the wall and stained in blood.

**_DID BAGGINSES MISS US?_ **

An animal’s carcass—Bilbo dared not find out what—lay under the message as he picked up his phone.

“ _Brandybuck._ ”

“Rory, it’s Bilbo.”

“ _I hope this isn’t a pleasure call. Unless you caught Greenwood, then I’d love to hear you brag how you caught another bastard._ ”

“Sméagol’s here. And he knows I’m here.”

Nothing. “ _You’re sure?_ ”

“Who else calls me ‘Bagginses’ or addresses himself in first person _plural_?” He sighed. “I don’t have fucking time for this.”

“ _No. You don’t. What do you think he’s doing in Seattle_?”

“I’ll talk to the FBI here. Tell them to look for him in the sewers.”

“ _I’ll do that. I want you to focus only on Greenwood._ ”

“He tried to _kill_ my nephew and you want me to just let him _go_?!”

“ _Bilbo, you have a job to do. Right now, Greenwood is your priority. Not Gollum. Agent Baggins_.” Bilbo stiffened. Rory rarely addressed him so unless he meant to instill a point. “ _Under_ no _circumstances are you to go after Gollum._ Nor _are you are allowed to take the law into your own hands where he is concerned. Leave him alone. Is that clear_?”

Bilbo glared at the message etched into the wall. “Yes,” he snarled.

He bade goodbye to Rory and called the front desk, letting them know about the break in and to not send anyone into the room.

He finished getting ready with shaking hands and chilled skin. Nothing felt warm. When the FBI arrived, Bilbo spoke briefly with them before heading out.

 _Of all the days he could choose to let me know he’s here…_ Bilbo arrived at King’s nearly ten minutes before the others, staring at the large school. _How the hell are we going to find Thranduil_ here _?!_

King’s School was facetted with many buildings—a senior home just outside the school grounds—so close, it may as well be _on_ the grounds. As well as a radio station, several buildings serving for kindergarten through high school—a hill leading to a gymnasium and…

Bilbo sighed, shaking his head. _I can’t do this right now_.

“How the fuck are we going to find him here?” He turned to see Thorin, staring at the area with as much awe and disappointment as Bilbo.

“My sentiments exactly,” Bilbo muttered. “Where are the others?” He barely finished the question when he saw Dori and Dwalin approaching, mouths open in shock.

“He could hide anywhere here!” Dori exclaimed.

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. _I don’t have fucking time for this_. “Well, let’s get set up—”

“Durin!”

They turned around.

Bilbo felt his eyes might pop out of his head from how wide they grew seeing Azog standing at full height. He easily towered over all of them. Bilbo knew he was shorter than average, but he never encountered such a large man before. Azog was at least a foot and a half on all of them. Same as Bolg, who stayed behind, Dana grasping his hand.

“What are you doing here?”

“Thranduil is striking tonight,” Bilbo said, refusing to be cowed by the giant that Azog felt like to him. “Probably while Dana is getting ready for her role in the play. Let us do our job. Help us, if that makes you feel better, but _don’t_ stop us. We can put an end to this today but we’ll need your cooperation.”

Azog snarled at him. It took all of Bilbo’s self restraint to keep his hands steady and at his side.

“Dad,” Bolg called. “Let them.”

Azog turned to Bolg, then to Bilbo, gaping. “You defied my orders again?!” he shouted at Bolg.

“You really didn’t think I’d let you have the final say where Dana’s safety is concerned, did you?” Bolg retaliated, closing the distance between them.

Dana watched, curious, beside five armed men.

“I told you before,” Bolg growled, glowering at his father, “Dana’s safety is my concern. If I say more guards are necessary, even if you disagree, I’ll give her more guards. If a fed and a cop tell me what this one did and offer their help, I’m taking it regardless what you think of them.”

Bilbo really didn’t want to get drawn into a family feud. Especially if it involved guns. “We can argue about this later after Thranduil is captured or killed,” he said. “Gentlemen, will you at least make it easier for us to do our job?”

Azog and Bolg glared at him. “Very well,” Azog said. “Just this _once_. Come with us.”

Both men returned to the car and led Dana toward the auditorium. The others followed. Dana fished for answers, which Bolg diverted.

A door leading into a classroom opened and Bilbo frowned. The whole room was filled with girls and their mothers, dressing in their costumes, and getting their hair and makeup done.

“What’s the play, exactly?” Thorin asked.

“It’s a four act play retelling four different Grimm Fairy Tales. Dana’s in the third act: _Jack and the Giant_ ,” Bolg replied, closing the door, “As Jack.”

“Wouldn’t she have multiple roles, then?” Bilbo asked.

“There are too many children and everyone is supposed to get a little stage time, regardless of the part they get.” Bolg grins. “Dana’s shy, but she’ll do fine even if she continues to say she’d rather have been a tree or an animal since they don’t require memorizing lines and all she has to do is stand there. Easy.”

Bilbo hummed, putting a little distance from his team and the mob, adjusting his earpiece. “I want snipers around the school. Hide on the roofs. The auditorium roof is central, all eyes there. If Thranduil, aka the Fairy Tale Killer, shows, he might be wearing a wolf mask. Try to get a clean shot. He may have a girl with him, most likely the victim. She’ll be dressed as Jack Giant-Killer.”

He turned to the others. “Take positions outside the auditorium. I want all possible escape routes blocked.” The others left to do as instructed.

As Azog called his men, Bilbo’s phone alerted him to a text.

_Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell the blood of a huntsman._

Bilbo tensed, pushing his way to the door. He turned the handle. When it didn’t budge, he rammed his shoulder into the door. Still nothing.

 _Screw it,_ he thought.

“Back off!” he shouted at the gangsters behind him, pulling his gun out and shooting the lock.

Bolg swung the door open and a stench resembling something akin to rotting laundry wafted past their noses. Bilbo covered his mouth and nose, looking around at the women and children asleep on the floor.

“Call an ambulance,” He ordered.

“Dana? Dana?!”

“Don’t breath it in!” he shouted at Bolg. “Get away from the room.” Bilbo followed him out, demanding the area be quarantined and the auditorium be evacuated. “Where’s Dana?” Bilbo demanded.

“ _No sign of Dana or the FTK._ ”

Bilbo swore. _He can’t change his M.O. He won’t do that, but…he’ll choose a different roof._ “Search the roofs!” he demanded. “He might have chosen a different one to throw her off of!”

He sprinted out of the auditorium, searching. _C’mon_ , he thought, murmuring to himself. His phone piqued.

 _Ten minutes, Huntsman._ Bilbo grit his teeth, shoving his phone in his pocket, urging himself to think—

**_BAM-BAM-BAM!!_ **

He ran toward the Middle School building—the oldest building, it seemed to him, with a turreted roof. “Who opened fire?” he demanded.

“ _I did,_ ” Thorin said. “ _Where are you?_ ”

“Outside the middle school building.”

“ _He’s heading your way and he’s injured. I got his shoulder. Bullet passed right through._ ”

“What about Dana?”

“ _I got her, we’re coming down now._ ”

Bilbo entered the school, pointing the barrel of his gun at the floor. “Thorin are you sure he’s heading my way?”

“ _Positive. The rooms are all locked._ ” Bilbo passed a girl’s bathroom.

“Even the lavatories?”

“ _Oh._ ”

“Focus on getting her out,” Bilbo said, checking to see if the bathroom door opened. It did. “All units to the Middle School,” he said. “I want a human wall around the building, and three teams to search levels. Greenwood might escape through a—”

A sharp pain jolted the back of Bilbo’s head. First was blinding white light.

Then darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

_He’s…ming…ound…_

Bilbo moaned. His head felt like his brain had been removed and replaced with lead. He opened his eyes, blinking at the light.

“Do you know who you are?”

“Yes I know who I am. And my name is Bilbo before you ask.”

The medic held up three fingers.

“Do I look beyond the fingers or something? I see three.”

“He’s snarky,” Bofur’s voice echoed. “That probably means he’s fine.”

“Tell me something good happened? Other than we got Dana back,” Bilbo groaned, easing up. He swallowed, feeling a little bit nauseas. “I think I’m going to throw up.” The medic handed him a bag. He thanked her and held it ready.

“Sadly that is the only thing that went right,” Dwalin informed him. “Thorin found you knocked out in an empty lady’s room.”

“At least it was empty,” Bilbo muttered. “Where is Thorin?”

“Trying to avoid a showdown with the mafia, I think,” Bofur said. “The Gundebad father and son are talking to him.”

“I hope their thanking him,” Bilbo snorted. “I get the feeling being indebted to Thorin would leave a bad aftertaste in their mouths.”

Dwalin nodded. “Azog looks like he’d eaten a raw lemon and is trying not to wince through the whole thing. Bolg doesn’t seem to care much and Thorin…well, he’s being a smug bastard.”

“But we don’t have Thranduil.”

“No.”

Bilbo leaned back down, closing his eyes. “Put Taylor Fife in a safe-house or a hotel. I want four guards on her and her family. Armed escort. How many are on Kili Durin?”

“Just Thorin?”

“I want four guards on her too. And in case he decides to go after Legolas, have him and Elrond set up in the same hotel with another four guards. Dwalin, Taylor’s your charge. Dori, take Legolas. Bofur, I want you with Thorin.”

“What about you?”

_Did Bagginses miss us?_

Bilbo swallowed. “I’ll be working on a new game plan. We’ve only two more chances to catch him and I don’t want either of them to be wasted.” He turned to the medic. “Is it safe for me to get up?”

“Have someone drive you home and try to stay awake for twenty-four hours. And go see a doctor, just in case,” she said.

“All right,” Bilbo said, standing. He steadied himself against the ambulance door, eyes closed. “Thanks.”

“I’ll take him home,” Thorin said. Bilbo opened his eyes to look at him. Thorin definitely resembled a rather satisfied cat.

_If he mentions his undying love for me on the drive back Downtown, I swear to God I’ll punch him in his perfect nose._

#

“You seem happy,” Bilbo muttered, as they pulled out of the school.

Thorin shrugged. “I’ll take victories against Azog where I get them. Besides, saving his granddaughter means he owes me and I cannot say how satisfying it is to hear him say, ‘thanks.’” If Thorin could be more honest, he’d say he felt as though he was walking on air.

“Could we go to where you’re staying instead of where I am?”

“Why?”

“Trust me, I don’t really want to go back there right now.”

“Bad management?”

“You could say that.”

“Why are you staying there then?”

“There wasn’t a problem until I woke up…someone I’ve been chasing longer than Thranduil broke in. My supervisor has the Seattle FBI on his trail, but waking up to find a threatening message scratched into the wall is _not_ how I was hoping to start my day.”

Thorin’s grin died. “Who?”

“Have you heard of Gollum?”

“Uh…no. I haven’t.” Thorin drove onto the Freeway. “Care to enlighten me?”

Bilbo didn’t speak for at least a minute.

“I had just graduated from Quantico when my cousin and his girl had a baby. High school couple. Most of the family was ready to disown them if not for my own parents stepping in and offering to help support them. I hadn’t had much field time yet when I was teamed with a senior agent as a mentor and partner. He’s my AD now and we were assigned to go and investigate some odd killings in Georgia.”

“Georgia?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t know anything happened in Georgia. Florida, definitely, but Georgia?”

“Believe me, it was Georgia. Roswell, Georgia—not to be confused with Roswell, New Mexico…anyway, we went to Roswell and looked at the autopsies, they were all strong men, and they had their heads bashed in with a concrete. As though someone had repeatedly slammed them into a wall. And after they were killed, they’d been eaten…by another human.”

Thorin felt his stomach flip. “A cannibal?”

“Yeah. Gollum is psychotic. He is completely out of his mind crazy. Not a sociopath or schizophrenic, but definitely out of his mind. His real name is Sméagol Rivers, from Tallahassee, went missing around eighteen after his cousin Deagol was murdered. He was strangled. There were two possibilities. One was that he ran for it. Whoever killed his cousin went after him and he went into hiding. The other was that he killed his cousin and ran. That was five years before I graduated. One day, during a search and rescue for a teenage girl who was found nearly beaten to death, I got separated from my group and was knocked out. When I woke up, I was in the sewers and there was someone singing:

“ _Alive without breath, as cold as death._

_Never thirsting, ever drinking. Clad in mail never clinking._

_Drowns on dry land, thinks an Island is a mountain, thinks a fountain Is a puff of air._

_So sleek, so fair!  What a joy to meet! We only wish to catch a fish, so juicy-sweet!"_

Thorin slowed the car as traffic built up.

“I never forgot that song. It was…it was so chilling. I went toward it. I found him beating a man about your height with a half brick, striking it over his head repeatedly until he died. I was getting ready to arrest him when he…” Bilbo paused.

“Bilbo?”

“I’m fine. I always feel sick when I think about it. He _sunk_ his _teeth_ into the dead man’s _neck_ and started to _eat_.”

At a stop, Thorin turned to Bilbo. His shoulders shook and his chest heaved. One arm clutched his middle and the other covered his mouth as he hyperventilated. He sat up, leaning against the seat.

“He caught me and I managed to outsmart him and get away. A few hours later, my partner and I led a team after him. We found the man’s remains, but not Gollum. Except there was a message: we know you stole it.”

“Did you take something from him?”

“It was a gold ring, like a wedding band. It was left on the ground and it was how I managed to outsmart him and get away. He didn’t notice until later and left that message for me. I don’t even know _how_ I managed to survive that day, but right after it, my mom was begging me to quit the FBI.”

“You didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t,” Bilbo corrected. “My family’s been in some sort of law enforcement for generations. Mom’s dad was the chief of police. My Dad was a lawyer. And since high school, the FBI’s always fascinated me.”

“Since high school?”

“ _The X-Files_ had just come out…”

Thorin laughed. “Fair enough. At least you did what you wanted to do. I became a cop because that’s what was expected of me. Everyone in my family was a cop. First born kid, always a cop. My grandfather was a cop, his grandfather before him…my brother, my sister.”

“Well, it’s not all bad. On a good day, you get to talk to the mafia.”

“You mentioned your cousin and his family earlier…I don’t really understand how that relates.”

Bilbo sobered again. “About a year ago, Gollum showed up again. My cousin and his girl drowned two years before that. It was winter, they lost control of the car and the car slid off a ledge into the ocean. Frodo, his son, was at a friend’s house at the time and they were going to pick him up. Frodo was six then. I gave him the ring I found in the sewers to help him sleep. It meant nothing to me except that it managed to save me from Gollum, so it was sort of like a good luck charm. I told him it’d protect him and he believed me. He slept easier. His grades went up. He was happier. Everything was great. Then Gollum showed up again. Somehow he got my number and started calling me. We tried to track him and then one day he called and as we were setting up the trace, he said:

“ _You stole the precious. We will steal what is precious to Bagginses_.

“An hour later, I got a call from the after school care attendant telling me Frodo had not showed up. He _always_ shows. He _always_ went and never ditched. So what was once considered a theft of property now became a full on hostage situation and…”

Bilbo leaned forward, nearly bent in half holding his head in his hands.

“We managed to save him, but not in time. He was alive, but Gollum bit his finger off and was going to eat him. Gollum escaped. Frodo was traumatized and injured. I…I sent Frodo to a witness protection group and I haven’t seen him in nearly a year. I get a monthly e-mail from his body guards who pose as his parents letting me know how he’s doing. He’s getting better. But it’s for an adult to be in hiding like that…He’s ten. _Ten._ Arresting Gollum isn’t even _close_ to what I want. If you think I want Thranduil’s head on a plate, you’ve no idea the lengths I’ll go where Gollum is concerned…”

Thorin turned into the parking lot at the hotel he resided in, speechless.

He knew he’d take the law into his own hands himself where Fili and Kili were concerned, so he didn’t begrudge Bilbo that. In a way he understood Bilbo’s fury. Knowing Thranduil was just one more girl away from getting to Kili made his blood both boil and freeze.

 _And what could be said_ , he wondered, leading Bilbo into the hotel.

Nothing. There was nothing he could say.


	18. Chapter 18

_He pinched the needle with shaking fingers, threading tooth floss through his skin._

_Fucking bastard almost killed him!_

_Thranduil grit his teeth, pulling the thread through, wincing at the sting in his shoulder._

_It was too late to have changed his plans for Dana, so he expected them to stop the kill of the Dorothy Girl. But he knew he’d have to…adjust his plans for the last two._

_Just a little._

#

“We don’t really have anything _here_ ,” Thorin said, wincing at the state of the refrigerator. “Fili and Kili should be back soon from wherever it is they went.”

“Do they often come home this late?”

“They do when they’re together, which has been often. Fili’s capable of keeping Kili safe. They’re close enough that some have asked if he’s got a bit of a…well, let’s just say close siblings tend to have their relationship romanticized by others.”

“Ew,” Bilbo groaned.

“My sentiments exactly.” Thorin shuddered. What was wrong with being close to your sibling?! Nothing! He was close to Dis much the same how Fili was close to Kili.

His thoughts vanished when he felt Bilbo close the distance between them, peering over his shoulder. “Give me a bit of time and there’ll be enough to eat tonight,” he said. Bilbo smirked at him. “You’ll have to go grocery shopping tomorrow, though.”

“Are you sure—”

“Yeah.”

“But—”

“Trust me. If it’s bad—which I doubt—we’ll order pizza or go out to eat.”

Thorin arched an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “You’re confident.”

“As you’ve guessed I’m close to my family and my grandmother was _not_ all that willing to let me leave the nest unless I knew how to cook. Even with barely anything in the frig. Thankfully she had the foresight to teach me since I was born. The kitchen sort of was my playpen.”

“That couldn’t have been safe.”

“I was supervised until I turned ten,” Bilbo shrugged, setting half a carton of eggs and tree apples on the counter. “By then, I could cook almost everything Grams taught me by memory.”

“Are you sure you want to cook?”

“It’ll keep my mind off things for a bit. Besides, I’ve not been able to really cook since the case began and it’s helped me calm down and think in the past.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Thorin said, heading to the living room. He sat on the couch, slouching and picking at dirt under his nails. He knew he was like Thranduil in that he’d take the law into his own hands if anyone attacked his family…was he wrong to assume Bilbo was the opposite? He didn’t think Bilbo understood.

Listening to him talk about Gollum, traumatic as it remained to be for him…Thorin turned toward the kitchen, spying Bilbo’s back, shoulders and arms shifting in his work. Bilbo was like Thranduil also. Odd how far a father—or uncle, in their case—would go for the children they loved.

Thranduil lost his daughter, and his actions cost him his son as well.

Bilbo had done nothing to deserve what happened to his family. (And neither did Thranduil, if Thorin wished to be completely honest.) And still, he lost his nephew. Whether it was to keep Frodo safe or not didn’t matter. Being separated from the kid, Thorin knew, must be killing Bilbo. He couldn’t imagine what it’d do to _him_ if Fili and Kili were taken away from him.

No matter what the reason.

“…up after dinner. I think,” Kili’s voice echoed down the hall. “It’s Friday so I don’t think Thorin will care much.” Fili stepped in.

“Make them stop,” he groaned, flopping down next to Thorin. Thorin furrowed his brow and turned to Kili—and Legolas. The boy stiffened.

“Hello, Mr. Durin, sir,” he said, smiling.

“We ran into him in the lobby and _Kili_ decided to invite him to have a Harry Potter movie marathon with her.”

“You can watch one. No marathons.”

“But Thorin…”

“ _Kilian_.”

“Fine.”

She pulled Legolas further into the room, ignoring the visible fear on his face. Fili was cracking his knuckles, smirking. Thorin resisted the urge to let Fili field strip his gun, crossing his arms instead and glaring at the boy.

“ _Chamber of Secrets_ was the best, I think,” Legolas said, sitting as far away from Thorin and Fili as possible. Kili knelt in front of the Blu Ray/DVD player, flipping through the movies.

“Thorin?” Bilbo stepped out of the kitchen, "how many are here? Five?”

“Looks like it. Sorry. Legolas was an unexpected arrival.”

“That’s fine.”

“But there’s…I’ll just shut up. It’d be better not to argue.”

“Yes it would be.”

“You’re staying with the FBI agent?” Legolas asked.

“I didn’t know he was here until now!” Kili snapped defensively, pouting. “Blame Fili.”

“Hey! Blame _Thorin_. He actually _knew_ a Fed would be cooking dinner! Why is a fed cooking dinner?”

“Because he said it calms him down long enough to think clearly and it’s been a rather…rough day,” Thorin said. “Good, but rough. He’ll be staying with us while some of his FBI buds from Seattle—”

“Not buds,” Bilbo snapped, “I don’t know them and they’ve stolen my long term case.”

“And yet you’re too close to it which is _why_ they took it from you.”

“You’re too close to the case we’re on _now_ and _I’m_ still letting you work it.”

Fili and Kili turned to Thorin, glaring. “I thought you of all people would _know_ better than to work a case you’re too close to,” Kili said. Fili clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

“Just remember I can ground the both of you.”

“Not without probable cause,” Fili reminded him, smirking. Thorin rolled his eyes, failing to suppress a grin of his own.

“Perhaps,” he groaned, stretching, “We could save the movie for _after_ dinner. Would that be okay, Kili?” Kili nodded, abandoning the player after turning it off and sitting between Fili and Legolas. Thorin nudged Fili. “Keep both eyes on them. Especially _him_.”

“ _Oi, mon capitan_.”

Thorin patted Fili’s shoulder, heading back into the kitchen.

He leaned against the wall, imagining…what if the situation was different. They weren’t trapped in a hotel under police protection, but back home and this was a scene he could find: Bilbo cooking, a sharp contrast to who Thorin first met.

Two sides to the same man: one hardened as a soldier against crime, same as Thorin. The other being… _this_ —a domesticity Thorin had suspected but was unsure that Bilbo really possessed. He imagined having the freedom to wrap his arms around that waist, to kiss the curve of that neck. To be kissed in return by those lips, for fingers to trail through his hair and claw his back.

Bilbo did not notice him staring, so deep in his work, but Thorin tore his gaze away from Bilbo’s back to the floor, digging his nails into his palms.

It wouldn’t happen. It wasn’t ever going to happen. Once the case ended, Bilbo would return to Boston and the likelihood of seeing each other again would be a dream never fulfilled.

“Dinner’s almost ready if you’d like to set the table,” Bilbo said, pulling Thorin out of his depression.

“Sure,” he said, walking to a cupboard and pulling out the dishes and silverware, laying them on the table. Now what? Call the kids?

Bilbo lay a large dish on the table.

“What is that?”

“Quiche. And as promised, you’ll need to go grocery shopping tomorrow.”

“Huh.”

“You want to get the kids or should I?” Bilbo asked. Thorin looked at him again. He seemed calmer than before. Dark circles still lay beneath his eyes, but he was certainly more awake.

“I’ll get them.” Bilbo sat down as Thorin called the trio.

#

Legolas lay awake, hiding under the covers, biting his lip as he let his thoughts run wild.

Would his father be caught? Or would he be killed in his attempt to flee?

Legolas wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On the one, he didn’t see much of a difference between his father dying and now. He wasn’t living with his father, he wasn’t in his care…so it must not matter whether Thranduil lived or died.

Kili took over his thoughts otherwise.

He wasn’t sure her brother and uncle liked him much, but he and his father weren’t all that kind to any boy Tauriel liked when she was alive either, so he didn’t fault Kili’s family for being protective.

He just wished they didn’t make every effort to scare him. They were good at it.

But Kili was very pretty and nothing like most of the girls he knew. She was adorable and tough all at once. She liked much of the same things Legolas did. She even liked archery, but hadn’t held a bow before. Maybe he could find an archery range and ask her uncle if he’d mind if Legolas showed her how to shoot arrows.

Legolas felt giddy at the prospect of showing her how to shoot.

He didn’t really think much beyond that, though he wondered what it’d be like to kiss her…he’d probably never get the chance, but holding her hand, watching a movie with her (even when a cop breathed down his neck), eating dinner with her…

Legolas tightened the covers around him. If this is what being in love felt like, he could get used to it.


	19. Chapter 19

Bilbo stretched, yawning, before turning back to the computer Thorin lent him, the screen blinding him in his fatigue. He needed an IV drip. Filled with coffee. Strong coffee with sugar and cream.

Yeah.

“Morning,” Thorin yawned, stepping out of the bedroom. Bilbo’s voice choked in the back of his throat.

_Was he always this gorgeous? Or had I not been paying attention till now?_

Thorin looked slightly out of it, admitting to having just gotten up. He wore grey sweats which hugged his hips. His chest was bare, unless one counted the rug of hair covering his body. His body was well defined. Bilbo knew the guy was big. Not as big as Dwalin, but still impressively muscular.

“Coffee?” Thorin’s voice rasped, sending a jolt down Bilbo’s spine. He nodded, unable to speak. “How’d you take it?”

“Cream and sugar,” Bilbo managed to wrangle out his throat without squeaking. _A large pot just for me, thanks. That may get things back to the way they were. STOP TORMENTING ME WITH THAT FUCKING VOICE, DAMMIT!!!_

“Okay.” Thorin walked past him, scratching his ribs. When he had left, Bilbo lay his head against the table.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?! He’s my subordinate…just until the case is done…_ no _, don’t even think about what ifs! You’re going back to Boston after the case is over…but Gollum—no! Don’t think about that. That’ll only make you lose your concentration. Let the Feds here do their work….Isn’t he cold without a shirt? Maybe, but he also lives here, so…he may be used to the climate…God, I want to—_ no, _Bilbo!_

“Are you against going out for breakfast later?” Thorin asked, “With the kids? It’s Saturday and as far as I know we’ve nothing to worry about today save keeping an eye on Kili.”

_Stupid, fucking sexy voice!!! Did it always sound like this?!_

“Bilbo?”

“Yeah, I’ve no problem with that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to regain any control over his emotions he could. “Mind if I use the shower?”

“Sure. Want some clean clothes? I think I’ve—”

“No. I’ll manage. Thanks.”

He entered the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Bilbo took a few deep breaths. _This isn’t happening. Not now. Not with everything going on._

He turned the shower on, stripping out of his clothes. He could survive in them another day, but he’d have to go back to the old place and see if he could get his clothes. He stepped into the shower, letting the stream of water beat down on his back, hot on his skin.

It didn’t help that this newfound attraction was backed by the knowledge that Thorin is attracted to him. Bilbo pressed his palms against the wall, trying to regain his composure.

Thorin joined the task force at the very beginning after he was assigned to solve the murder of Alicia Logan—the Alice Girl. Bilbo knew the man was a capable detective. A little haughty at times, but not one to back talk his superiors, even if he judged them a bit.

Bilbo could tell some of that about the man at a glance through a file without having met him. True, Thorin was undeniably attractive. Yet it didn’t affect Bilbo at all until _now._

Why?

He slammed a fist against the wall. _Get a hold of yourself!_

Perhaps it had more to do with how dedicated he was to catching Thranduil. Or that he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else for months—not even on Gollum. (He never forgot about the madman, but he refused to dwell on him until he showed again.)

Bilbo lay his forehead against the wall. “I don’t have time for this,” he mumbled, eyes closed.  “I can’t do this. Not right now.”

He inhaled, washing his hair and body before drying and redressing himself. Thorin handed him a mug on his return to the kitchen, still dressed in the sweats, but clearly more awake than before.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You seem…more tired than usual.”

“First coffee in a few hours. Honestly, I _prefer_ tea, but with how my hours usually work…the late nights, the lack of sleep given the cases I get…yeah. Coffee kind of became a commodity.”

“Huh.”

Thorin raised the mug to his lips, drinking the steaming contents within, neck arched. Bilbo shifted his gaze to the floor, pressing the lip of his own cup to his mouth.

“So…where were you thinking of going for breakfast?”

“There’s a Shari’s Fili and Kili like—”

“Why is the room bubbling with this much sexual tension at this time in the morning?” Fili inquired, frowning at them. “It is not okay. At least—”

“Fili,” Thorin growled.

“What?”

“You’re grounded.”

“Again: probable cause. Where is yours?”

“You’re being an annoyance.”

“That does not count as probable cause. If you listen to Kili, I’m _always_ an annoyance. But then again, there’s no fun to being a brother if I can’t be annoying.”

“Then I’ll retract my statement and take Kili to Shari’s with Legolas because unlike you, I still intimidate him.”

“I’ll just hop in the shower then. Forget I was ever here.”

“Gladly.” Fili disappeared behind the wall. “I apologize. He’s usually not…scratch that, he usually _is_ like that unless he chooses to be serious. Still, I’m sorry he…well…”

Bilbo lowered the mug. “It’s just a very bad time, you know.”

“Yes. I do.”

Thorin left it at that, finishing the last of his coffee and leaving the kitchen. Bilbo bit his lip. Thorin really had a nice back. He avoided staring at his hips, but the curve of Thorin’s back, the power in the muscles beneath smooth skin…

“Damn it,” Bilbo whispered, closing his eyes.

#

Thorin had missed his turn to shower when Fili informed Kili they’d be heading to Shari’s. He had wondered if it were possible for Kili to move that fast on a Saturday morning.

Clearly it was.

He finished trimming his beard and brushed his teeth.

Bilbo had seemed…distracted this morning. Thorin was still half asleep to notice then, but remembering he had only been in his grey sweats as far as Bilbo knew, now grinned with a sense of satisfaction. Whether Bilbo had accepted it yet or not, Thorin could not say, but he couldn’t hide blatant attraction if he tried. It wasn’t as deep as Thorin felt for him…

That Bilbo found him attractive was more than he hoped for anyway.

He wiped toothpaste froth off his mouth and finished dressing before meeting the others in the living room.

“The forensics is usually done by a special team that works in cooperation with the FBI. Sometimes they come from the coroners, but there are individual departments—”

“What about the Jeffersonian.”

“Erm…I wouldn’t know. Perhaps the FBI in DC would, but I’m stationed in Boston, so usually I work with our own forensics office when solving a case.”

“Do you chase serial killers?”

“Kili!” Thorin snapped.

Bilbo didn’t seem to mind. “Why do you think I’m in Seattle right now? You’re uncle’s helping. Which would be why he didn’t tell you anything, I gather?”

“Yes.”

“Shall we go to Shari’s?” Thorin said loudly before Kili could demand more information from Bilbo.

Fili pushed Kili out of the door, both trying to be mature, but identical grins lit their faces and they both seemed to have a spring in their step to enhance their giddiness.

Thorin walked in time with Bilbo. “I’m sorry about her. Kili tries _not_ to seem _too_ excited, but I did tell you she’s fascinated with crime shows. I sometimes wished she still fancied Disney movies. I worry about what those shows do to her.”

“She’s mature for her age, even if she’s still a bit giddy.”

“She seems to think me unapproachable, like a celebrity or the like. I’ve never been treated like that before…with awe, I mean.”

“She’s never met an FBI agent before. She’ll be bragging about that at school on Monday.”

“I would advise against sending her to school. At least until we have Thranduil.” Thorin turned to Bilbo, frowning. Bilbo did not back down, staring back. “You know as well as I that it’s the best option we have right now. You needn’t pull her out completely. Get school work for her to do.”

“She won’t like that.”

“Don’t make me remind you why you’re family is _here_ in the first place, Durin,” Bilbo snarled, eyes flashing. Thorin glared back.

“I know how to take care of my kids. And I’ll do it _my own_ way. I’m not pulling Kili out of school. We’ve had our nut cases to chase down. The school is well equipped to handle it. And so am I.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve—”

“I haven’t forgotten Thranduil, if that’s what you’re asking. I won’t. I trust you. I know you’re doing your best and I’m glad to help, but don’t— _don’t—_ tell me what to do in regards to my own family.”

Thorin strode past, shouting for Fili and Kili.

“Bad time to be having a domestic,” Fili mumbled.

“ _Fili_.”

“What?”


	20. Chapter 20

_The city is under a tighter grip than before. Thranduil cannot quite place it. The police are after him, but the FBI based here began scouring the sewers. For what, Thranduil could not tell._ _But it made him nervous._ _He kept his head bowed while crossing the street. Ignoring the presence following him until he turned down an alley and pulled out a piece of rope, twisting the ends around his hands._

_“Where’d he go, precious? Where’d he go? We lost him!”_

_Thranduil stepped out, looping the rope around his stalker’s throat and pulling the rope cutting off airflow._ _“Who are you? Why are you following me?”_

**_Gol-lum, gol-lum_** _,_ _he coughed, trying to fit his fingers between his throat and the rope. Thranduil loosened his hold just a little bit so he could speak. “Answer me.”_

_“We have no name you need know. But we know you. You’re the killer Bagginses is chasing.”_

_“How do you know Agent Baggins?”_

_“Baggins is a thief. A thief and a liar. He stole my precious. I got it back.” The man started to cry. “The little one was delicious and he stole that too!”_

_"What do you mean he's a thief? What 'little one'_ _?"_

_“Mustn’t ask us! Not its business!” **Gol-lum, gol-lum.**_

_He tugged on the rope a little more. “Tell me about this ‘little one’ and I’ll let you go,” he lied._

**_Gol-lum, gol-lum._ ** _“Baggins has a child. All we got was a finger. So juicy and tender it was.”_

 _Thranduil tensed. Did he mean he_ ate _the finger and intended to eat the rest of a child? And he followed Bilbo here? And to do what? Kill him? Eat him?_

_With a grunt, he seized the man’s head snapped his neck, throwing him into a trash bin pushed up against the wall, jumping in after him to cover him in the garbage previously under him._

_Thranduil jumped out, shaking. He pulled his phone out and texted Bilbo._

You’re welcome.

#

Bilbo pondered over the short, odd message he received three days ago as he stepped into the Coroner’s office and signed in.

“Agent Baggins?” A woman said, stepping toward him. She held her hand out to him and he shook it.

“I was told I’d have…special interest in the victim brought in.”

“According to what I was able to pull up on the vic and the prints I lifted, you most certainly do. I’ll show you.” Bilbo followed her into the morgue, hands stuffed in his pockets. The coroner opened the refrigerator. “The poor bastard was found dumped into a large trash reciprocal.” She pulled out the cadaver. “Animals were trying to get to him this morning and so when a lady’s Yorkie started barking at it and scratching, she had a look. And called the police.”

She lifted the sheet.  Bilbo closed his eyes, breathing deep and slow.

“Do you know him?”

“Sméagol Rivers, also identified as Gollum. I couldn’t tell you how many missing persons are linked to him, but…who, uh…who killed him? How?”

“At first, I thought it was strangulation because of the ligature marks around his neck. But x-rays show that his neck was snapped in a way that indicated that someone grabbed his head and twisted it fast and hard. I checked for prints and nothing. The prints here are unrecognized. There is also unidentified hair on his clothes. White blond. DNA still unrecognized, except it did match a few hairs from previous cases across the country which are all linked to your current case: The Fairy Tale Killer.”

Bilbo felt faint.

The text, _You’re welcome._ How did Thranduil find out about Gollum and what he did to Frodo? Why did he kill Gollum? None of this made sense?

Was it a territory dispute? Rivalry?

Probably. Serial killers are desperate for attention and he can’t fathom what would happen when their preferred audience (in this case, Bilbo himself) focused on another killer.

“Thank you. Cremate the body. The Rivers family doesn’t need to know what Sméagol became and I’d rather keep it that way. Let the state take care of funeral arrangements if they want. For all I care, he can rot in that trash can. Just…can I have a moment alone with the deceased?”

“Sure. But don’t mutilate it. You look like you’re about to grab the scalpel and stab it.” She left. Bilbo pulled his phone out with shaking hands and took a picture, followed by a text typed with shaking hands:

_He’s dead. I added a picture to prove it. I want my nephew back by the time I come home. I’ll tell you the date that is when I know for sure. I didn’t kill him._

_—Bilbo_

Bilbo pocketed his phone, striding out of the morgue. “Agent Baggins?” The coroner said, brow knit in worry. “Baggins!” He threw the door open, drinking in the fresh rain scented air, leaning against the wall. His phone buzzed.

_Request for coroner’s report sent. Will let you know later._

Bilbo texted back. _When can I talk to Frodo?_

_Soon._

_HOW soon?_

No replies. Bilbo closed his eyes, trying to keep the tears threatening to spill back. He was torn between joy and fury. On the one hand, he could get Frodo back as soon as he returned to Boston. On the other, _he owed Thranduil._

 _Thranduil_! The very man he’d been chasing for months! Who murdered children in cold blood as though he was mimicking the La Llorona legend—minus the belief he could resurrect his daughter if he killed enough girls!

Bilbo headed to his car, deciding it’d be best to get back to work.

“It changes nothing,” he mused. “It changes _nothing_.”

_And also everything._

#

When Bilbo returned from the morgue, he slammed his office door behind him. The others turned to Thorin.

“What?” he asked.

“You know him better than us,” Bofur stated. “Go see what’s up.”

“Why me?”

“Like Bofur said: you know him,” Dori snapped, lifting the large mug filled with tea. “So you do it.”

Thorin sighed, heading toward the office. He knocked. “Bilbo?” The door clicked open, swinging inward. He entered, closing the door behind him. Bilbo slouched in his chair. “How are you?”

“Don’t know.”

“What do you mean? What happened at the morgue?”

“Gollum’s dead. Thranduil killed him. Coroner’s sure of it.”

Thorin pulled a chair over to Bilbo. “That’s good though.”

“ _Thranduil_ killed him. Who can say whether that’s good or not? In a way, yes it is _very_ good. I can get my nephew back. But I’m losing my mind! I don’t know what he’s doing. In one moment he’s killing children, the next he’s killing a man who tried to kill a child!”

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure how to feel about this. Anyone else, I’d thank them personally.” He lowered his hand and looked at Thorin. “Probably even kiss them. One less fucker is always good and it takes care of a lot for me…”

Thorin pretended that didn’t tear his heart. He pretended he wasn’t affected by his irrational jealousy—

His lips are soft save for the slight scratches against his own from dryness. Before Bilbo can pull away, Thorin snapped to his senses, recognizing that Bilbo _really was_ kissing him, and returned the kiss; deepened it, threaded his fingers through Bilbo’s hair…

Bilbo’s tongue slid against Thorin’s lips. Groaning, he pulled Bilbo into his lap and smiled at the gasp that escaped his throat. Bilbo adjusted to straddle him, tilting Thorin’s head up a little. Thorin’s thumb brushed against the curve of Bilbo’s ear, earning an unexpected and much adored shudder.

“Sensitive ears?”

“Shut up,” Bilbo growled, nipping Thorin’s bottom lip. Thorin’s breath caught in his throat when Bilbo’s hips shifted pleasantly in his lap (gentle enough he guessed it could be involuntary). Thorin thrust up, catching Bilbo by surprise if the sudden bite on his lips were anything to guess by.

“I love you.”

“Ditto. Maybe,” Bilbo replied, pulling away. “I definitely think you’re hot. Counts for something, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll take what you’re willing to give. Besides,” Thorin smirked. “It’s always nice to know someone you find hot thinks the same.” Bilbo blushed, skin turning red from his face down to his neck.

“Kiss me.”

Thorin moaned, pulling Bilbo back to him, crashing his mouth to his. _Give me another command_ , he willed. _Tell me what to do. Tell me to touch you. Undress you. Ravish—_

“Thorin? Bilbo?”

Bilbo jumped off Thorin, running his hand through his disheveled hair (well, more disheveled than usual) and turning to his computer screen. Thorin stared at Bilbo’s lips, red and swollen.

The door opened. “Everything all right in here?” Bofur asked, looking from Bilbo to Thorin. “The lads and I were a bit worried since you hadn’t come out in a bit and it was rather quiet…Am I interrupting?”

 _Yes, you fucking cock block_ , Thorin thought. He didn’t voice his thoughts. Neither did Bilbo.

“Oh…kay,” Bofur said. “Carry on with, um, whatever you were doing before.”

The door closed. The silence closed around them and Thorin wished he had something to say. Anything. Even if it was a stupid, useless fact…about Antarctica.

Bilbo turned to Thorin.

“What do we do?”

 _Good question_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I killed Gollum off. Why? Gollum’s presence sort of diverts from the original plot. While I liked having him around and would have loved to write a sequel surrounding him, it just wasn’t going to work. Especially this late into the story!
> 
> I swear, I thought this story would be done by now!
> 
> On another note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!


	21. Chapter 21

_What the hell was I thinking?_ Bilbo asked himself, turning onto his side.

His lips didn’t tingle anymore, but they were still swollen. He pressed his fingers against the curve of his mouth, as though his fingers could replace Thorin’s mouth: mimic the curves of his lips, their softness…their unadulterated hunger.

Thorin tasted of coffee. He smelt of rain and leather. In a way it was intoxicating. He could get addicted to Thorin if he allowed himself to dare. Bilbo wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He would go back to Boston, rebuild the life he had with Frodo before Gollum…

 _You could do that here. Might be easier, too. And you’d be close to Thorin_ , a voice in the back of his head whispered.

Sighing, he gave up going to sleep, sitting on the couch of the new hotel room he’d been given in recompense. He opened Google Maps, checking the surrounding area.

Thranduil intended to kill Taylor near her home where a body of water resided. His first choice had been Ronald Bog Park on one seventy fifth and Aurora. There were two other bodies of water in Shoreline he could choose from:

Echo Lake up North and Twin Ponds Park directly South.

Bilbo wondered why Thranduil moved his hunting grounds North of Seattle. Shoreline is a fifth in size to Seattle…he opened another page, googling the city.

_Founded in 1890 for the railroad…connected to Seattle via the Seattle-Everett street car since 1906 and the North Truck Road—now known as Aurora Avenue or State Route Nintety-Nine. The area was given the name “Shoreline” in 1944 and dedicated to the School District which claimed the area of Puget Sound to Lake Washington and from the old city line of 85 th (Now 145th) street to the boundaries of Snohomish County…_

_Shoreline was not an individual city until August 1995._

Bilbo wondered if that meant that Thranduil didn’t quite know. So perhaps some people assumed Shoreline _was_ just another Seattle district. It was the only thing that made sense.

His fingers skittered across the keyboard, typing an e-mail to Shoreline’s police department, requesting their cooperation with Seattle in this matter.

When fatigue hit and he decided to try sleeping again, he was still plagued by dreams of a cop with raven black hair and piercing blue eyes.

But better those than nightmares of young girls staring at him with lifeless eyes, condemning him for being unable to save them.

#

_He tightened the mask just a little more before tossing the bottle into the room. The shatter of glass, the shouts born of shock, and the thuds of bodies hitting the floor told him it was time to strike._

_Thranduil entered the house, stepping around the comatose men, heading up the stairs to the Frog Princess’ room, a cloth doused in chloroform. She still slept soundly, oblivious to his presence. She cried out when he covered her mouth with the cloth, tearing at his arm before going limp again. He lifts her in his arms and descends the stairs._

_“Put her down.” A gun’s barrel presses into the back of his head. “Put her down_ now _.”_

_He obeys, setting the girl on the floor, using the opportunity to grab a knife he pocketed in his boot._

_“Over to the wall, hands behind your head.”_

_He spun around, seizing Leon’s wrist and shoving it upward so if the trigger pulled, the bullet would embed in the ceiling. He sheathed the blade into his ribs. The gun clattered to the floor before Thranduil released Leon._

_Thranduil lifted the girl into his arms again, running._

#

“Hello?” Bilbo said groggily.

“ _Thranduil came,_ ” Dwalin grunted.

He shot out of bed, pulling out clothes to dress with. “What happened?”

“ _He’s got Taylor. Cops sent two teams to search Echo Lake and Twin Ponds. Stabbed me. Already called Shoreline PD and an ambulance._ ”

“Are you still bleeding?”

“ _Holding my guts in with my hand. The bastard used chloroform on us. I was outside_.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, Dwalin. Don’t die on me until then.”

“ _Sure, boss._ ”

Bilbo hung up, swearing when he pulled his pants on backwards.

He sent the others a text, informing them of Taylor’s abduction. Dori and Bofur were to go to Echo Lake. Thorin was to meet him at Twin Ponds Park.

Twenty minutes later, Bilbo parked his car outside the park. A uni tried to stop him and he flashed his badge. “Where’s Detective Durin?”

“Found her!”

Bilbo ran toward the voice. A woman knelt over Taylor, performing CPR. “She alive?”

“She was face down in the water, but she still has a heartbeat.”

“Thank God!” Bilbo said. “Where’s Durin?”

“Chasing whoever ran into the trees,” she said nodding in the direction Thorin ran in. Taylor sputtered and gasped.

“Stay with her. Is an ambulance coming?”

“Called a minute ago,” the woman said, rubbing Taylor’s back.

Bilbo ran toward the trees. “Thorin!” he shouted.

“Over here!” He followed the voice, finding Thorin leaning against a tree, holding his head.

“What happened?”

“He’s stronger than he looks. Threw me against the tree. My vision’s swimming. How’s Taylor? Is she…did she…”

“She’s fine,” Bilbo said, grinning. “She was just fine last I checked. What about you? You’re head.” His fingers brushed against the bump, making Thorin wince. Bilbo pulled his hand away. “Get it looked at.”

“Yeah.”

Bilbo walked him back to the playground. He wanted to relish in this victory, but Thranduil had one girl left to attack on his list and if he easily moved from one girl to the next when she escaped him, he would just shrug Kili off as easily and head to the next town to begin all over again.

He hated that he’d have to tell Thorin this. Kili was their last chance to catch Thranduil.

They could _not_ let him escape next time. Not an option.

_I had hoped to have had finished this before now._

“What now? Do I have to get my family out of Seattle?”

“I wish I could say yes,” Bilbo replied.

Thorin’s head snapped to stare at him, demanding an explanation.

“He _skipped_ the Rapunzel girl,” Bilbo reminded him. “If Kili disappears, he’ll just move to the next town. It won’t end and Kili’s our last hope to stop him. He will go after her. We don’t even _have_ to dangle her on a hook, Thorin, nor do I want to do that anyway. He’ll show again and he’ll try to get her.”

“So what? Increase security again?”

“It’ll just be another challenge for him to overcome if we do and he’s succeeded each time I did that already. No. Rather, we get a tracker on Kili. Something discreet. Something she’ll willingly wear that we can use which will help us find her wherever she is.”

“A tracking device?”

“But small and inconspicuous. Something that might look like…teen jewelry—I am sorry, Thorin, but Kili is our last chance to catch him.”

“Kili’s watch.”

“What about it?”

“It has a GPS. So does her phone. Fili has the same stuff in case someone like Thranduil came around. Although…his watch is a bit more mature than Kili’s,” Thorin admitted.

They stepped out of the tree line toward the ambulance.

“I’ll turn the GPS tracker for her phone on, track her on mine. Same with her watch.”

“Thorin—”

“I don’t blame you, but I can’t promise you I’ll not pull the trigger if he gets his hands on my niece.”

Bilbo nodded, “Fair enough. Would you like me to send you home?”

“No. He might be able to disable the security, but before then, we might be able to find him before then if we tap into the hotel’s security.”

“I’ll talk to the manager then and my AD…”

“Probably not since it is Hotel Security, but…”

“You’re not one hundred percent sure?”

“No.” Bilbo leaned against the van while an EMP examined Thorin’s head. He gave him a thumbs up that it was just a bad bump and just to put some ice on it.

They went to their cars. Thorin pulled Bilbo aside. “Thank you.”

“For what? I just gave the worst news I could give anyone other than that their loved one’s dead. Why are you thanking me?”

“Because unlike some people, I have the chance to stop it before it happens. You gave me that chance. Most wouldn’t even let me on the team because of the ties I have with Thranduil. Even when you found out, you didn’t kick me off.”

“Course not,” Bilbo shrugged. “You’re a dedicated investigator and while I will admit that I had wondered if you were at the top of your game once in a while, you’re handling the situation better than most would. I trust you to keep your head about you. And I don’t feel guilty letting you kill the guy since it’s a dead or alive order. Just don’t overkill him.”

“I’ll try not.”

“Good. Now, we know he was planning on killing Kili at Hengda downtown, but he switched where he’d kill Taylor, he could switch where he kills Kili, even adjust when. We’ll keep the guards on her and on Legolas in case he decides to kidnap his son again. He might, he might not.”

“Okay.”

“Dwalin’s in the hospital now for a stab wound. Likely he’s off the team. I’d rather he recover.”

“I would too, honestly,” Thorin admitted. “Dwalin’s a good cop, but he’d work through a stomach-flu unless ordered to rest. I’ll see you to—no.” he checked his watch. “In three hours.”

Bilbo said. “See you at the precinct, then.” He strode toward his car before giving into the desire to kiss Thorin again.

 _After Thranduil is dead or caught,_ he promised himself, _I’ll talk to him about this…whatever it is we’ve gotten into after._


	22. Chapter 22

Thorin heard the television playing the news within the room, pressing his forehead against the door, eyes closed. He wasn’t sure he could go inside, he was sure he’d break down if he saw Kili and he desperately didn’t want to let her know something was wrong.

Reluctantly, he opened the door and stepped inside. Fili and Kili are watching the news. They glance at him and he smiles, successfully diverting Kili’s attention back to the television. But not Fili’s, whose expression shifts from neutral to worry.

He follows Thorin to the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”

Thorin debated telling Fili. Deciding it’d be against his best interest too, he pulled Fili into the bedroom. “He’s coming after Kili next,” Thorin said. “Fili, I need you to _promise_ me you won’t tell Kili anything.”

“Of…of course.” Fili leans against the wall, pale.

“Fili?”

He bows his head. Thorin sighs, pulling him into a hug. “We’ll get through this.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me. I know. I will _not_ let anything bad happen to Kili. You okay to go to school today?” Fili shivered. “I suppose not…” Thorin sighed. “Can you try? I know it’s a lot to ask you, Fi, but I don’t want Kili suspecting anything out of the ordinary. Take her to school, try to act normal. All right?”

Fili nods, stepping away from Thorin. “What about you?”

“What I must. I have to get back to the precinct…”

“Are you going to tell her?”

Thorin hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to frighten Kili if he could help it. “I’m not sure. I don’t want to, but I’d rather her know, so…in a way, it’d be best to tell her. And yet I don’t want to scare her. We’ll talk about it more tonight.”

“If today’s bad…”

“Then I’ll talk to your teachers,” Thorin promised. “We _will_ get through this.”

“I can’t lose her.”

“Shh,” I hush. “You won’t lose Kili. I won’t allow it.” Thorin regretted making promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. He knew he’d do his damndest to keep them…

But could he?

#

Regardless how they tried to hide it, Kili knew something was up.

Bad things that scared her uncle happened before, but she learned quickly that even when they happened, they were short lived. Whatever, or whoever, scared her uncle would disappear and everything would go back to normal.

But why did Fili also look scared? Kili was sure Thorin told him. She’d usually wrangle the truth from her brother, but a sense of caution or, more likely, apprehension schooled her tongue. Something was wrong. Kili wanted to know what.

She’d just have to ask Thorin about it after school, even though it ate away at her mind, keeping her from concentrating…

After school, while waiting for Kili, she received a text.

_It’s Legolas. You out of school yet?_

Kili’s cheeks felt as though the sun had kissed them, and a wide smile stretched her lips as she replied. _Yes. Waiting for Fili to show—_

“Kili!”

_And he just did, brb._

She sent the message and jogged to Fili’s side. He looked haggard. “You okay?”

“Not really. Rough day.”

Kili embraced her brother. “I’m sorry to hear that, Fi.”

“It’s fine. I’ll live.”

“Does it have to do what you and Thorin were talking about this morning?”

“It does…”

“I know Thorin probably asked you to not tell me,” her phone beeped, “So I won’t ask you. I’ll just see if I can get it out of him.”

“Who’s texting you?”

“Legolas.” Fili rolled his eyes, scowling. Kili glared at him. “You haven’t any real reason not to like him. You and Thorin don’t like him because I like him and he likes me. What’s wrong with being friends?”

“Because guys his age are just starting to know they don’t want to be ‘just friends.’”

“Maybe I want to be more than friends with him too,” Kili snapped, pulling her phone out. “Did that ever occur to you and Thorin? Legolas is nice! He’s very sweet!”

_Cool. I’m at the hotel. There’s a Starbucks across the street if you want to go get some hot chocolate._

“In fact,” she showed Fili the text.

“The kid’s dead.”

“Why! For inviting me to go get hot chocolate? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“If you insist on meeting the kid, I’m going with you.”

“Then you’re buying for both of us.”

“What?! But…I…” Fili sighed. “Fine.”

Kili snickered. _I’d love to, but Fili’s coming along. Sorry. He offered to pay for the both of us, though._

_I’m cool with that. SYL_

_SYL._

“Did the idea of me being there scare him off?”

“No.”

“Damn.”

Kili giggled, sliding into Fili’s car. “So sorry to disappoint you. But you like coffee.”

“Yeah…I do. Kind of, but that’s beside the point. I don’t want to see my sister making kissy faces at a dude!”

“We aren’t _dating!_ Gosh, what’s up with you, Fili? Why do you not like him? You’ve no reason to not like Legolas. He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Except for flirt with my sister and invite her to Starbucks for cocoa.”

“That’s not a crime. Since when is it criminal to ask someone to go to Starbucks? See. Logic. It always wins.”

Fili rolled his eyes. “I still don’t like him.”

“But you’ve no reason to _not_ like him.”

“I do: he likes you, who just so happens to be my baby sis. What other reason do I need?”

Kili rolled her eyes, deciding she’d never understand her family.

Ever.

#

“ _I’m impressed with your work so far, Baggins._ ”

Bilbo leaned back in his seat, pen tapping the edge of the table. “Thank you, Sir,” he replied trying to sound thrilled and not monotonous. He _hated_ this waiting feeling and being praised for a job that had yet to be complete.

“ _Don’t seem so down—yes, I hear it—and grasp the victories you already had. How many girls have you saved_ since _forming a task force with Seattle PD? Five or six?_ ”

“Sounds about right…” He sighed. “But it’s a bit early for praise. I haven’t caught him yet and there’s one more girl in danger. The Dancing Princess, Kili Durin—”

“ _Durin? Isn’t one of the members on your task force a Detective Durin?_ ”

Bilbo’s head buzzed. “Yes.”

“ _Are they related? If they are, then_ why _have you not taken him off your team?_ ”

He swallowed. On the one hand he could lie, say they shared the same name but had no relation to each other, but…a quick background check would expose his lie.

“I didn’t take him off the task force because he has a right to help protect his niece and he’s one of the best cops I’ve had the pleasure to work with—”

“ _Yet in having him on the team, with his niece being next on the Fairy Tale Killer’s list the likelihood that his performance will drop is, at most, eighty percent. Take him off the team._ ”

“Sir, I—”

“ _Baggins, take Detective Durin off the task force. He will compromise your job sooner rather than later._ ”

Bilbo doubted it. Thorin knew from the beginning that Kili could be the fifteenth victim. Even then, he didn’t let it affect his work.

“ _Or is the reason you’re allowing him to continue aiding the team despite knowing he will eventually hurt your chances at catching Thranduil._ ”

“Sir, with all due respect, Thorin Durin’s contribution has been near invaluable. He’s been on the team since its formation and there is no reason I can find to take him off it. He _isn’t_ letting his emotions rule him—”

“ _Baggins that is an order: take Thorin Durin off the task force due to compromised interest of the task at hand. He’s too way to close to it and it makes him a liability._ ”

Bilbo closed his eyes, leaning on the desk. “Understood.” _Want me to sell my soul to the devil and team up with Thranduil while at it?_

“ _Good. I await your next report. Goodbye, Agent Baggins._ ”

“Goodbye, Sir.”

He waited for the click of the receiver before lowering his phone. He slumped in his chair, wondering what the hell he was going to do. He didn’t want to take Thorin off the team and at the same time he couldn’t disobey Rory’s orders even when he disagreed with him.

Bilbo stood. His legs felt weak, ready to collapse beneath him at a moment’s notice. One hand clasped the door handle and the other supported him against the wall, where he rested his forehead. With a sigh, he opened the door.

“Durin.”

Thorin looked up, expression unreadable save for a small glimmer of hope. For what, Bilbo could only wonder. He stood and approached. Bilbo stepped aside to let him in, closing the door.

“What is it?” Thorin asked, noting the hesitation for the first time.

He took another breath, ready to hold his ground if need be. “Orders from the top,” he said, hoping that would placate Thorin’s ire, or at least direct it away from him. “I’m taking you off the team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really have time frames for when I’ll post a chapter, but this one is definitely late…writer’s block struck. Damn you writer’s block! DAMN YOU!!!


	23. Chapter 23

_He took another breath, ready to hold his ground if need be. “Orders from the top,” he said, hoping that would placate Thorin’s ire, or at least direct it away from him. “I’m taking you off the team.”_

Bilbo watched Thorin’s face slide from shock to sorrow and finally to anger as if each emotion was one fluid river.

“Why?”

“My AD believes you’ll become a liability. I don’t agree—”

“But you’re still taking me off!”

“Yes, but—”

“It’s your job. And I’d make the same call if our positions were switched,” Thorin growled. Bilbo tried not to wince, but he felt smaller under the glare Thorin directed at him. Handsome as he was, Thorin was menacing. “But I’d have thought, given that you understand how helpless I feel even _here_ knowing Thranduil is after _my_ niece, you’d overlook that.”

Bilbo averted his gaze to the ground. “It’s not my decision.”

“No. It’s not. But it is your choice whether to obey your superior’s orders.”

“And I chose to obey. You’re not under my...employ anymore. We won’t work together.” Bilbo felt suffocated by the silence permeating the room. “If you like, you can continue to hunt him, just…just not with us.”

“I see.”

“I am sorry.”

“For what? Doing your job? Save it.”

Bilbo nodded, biting his bottom lip. He stepped aside, allowing Thorin passage to the door. “Okay. But I meant what I said, if you want to keep hunting him, I won’t stop you.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.”

He closed his eyes as Thorin approached. Bilbo felt his presence beside him and dared open his eyes again, staring at the floor. The tense atmosphere around him, around Thorin…it wouldn’t let up.

Thorin seized Bilbo’s shoulders, pulling him close and crashing his mouth to his. Bilbo gasped, taken aback at first, trying to regulate his breathing and to think.

Tension seeped out of his pores. Clinging to Thorin’s shirt was more like holding to a rope he trusted not to break. Thorin pushed him gently, never releasing him, until Bilbo moved, walking backwards until his legs hit the sofa and he fell back with Thorin atop him.

 _I don’t understand,_ he thought, tugging at Thorin’s pristine shirt. _Why is he attracted to me? Why does he believe he’s in love with me?_

Bilbo hummed, fisting the cloth of Thorin’s shirt. He felt too warm, clothes too constricted—

“Wait,” he rasped, “Thorin, wait. Not here.” Thorin propped up on his elbows, staring at Bilbo. “Tonight. My— _your_ room.” He figured Thorin wouldn’t want to leave his kids unprotected, even with the guards already provided. “Okay?”

“Yes.” He stole another kiss, short and demanding, before getting off. Bilbo watched him fix his appearance, slightly confused and aroused. He didn’t know what brought Thorin to kiss him like that after, essentially, firing the man.

He stood, legs shaking beneath him. “Thorin.”

“Yes?”

“Why me?”

Thorin’s head snapped to face him, stuttering. Bilbo kicked himself, wondering why he had to ask Thorin to explain to him why he wanted him, to explain it.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, it’s just…I’m a bit confused.”

“Why are you confused? I think you’re beautiful and you’re smart. You’re brave and half the things you go through I don’t know if I’d be able to handle myself—” he blushed, realizing he answered the question Bilbo had unwittingly asked. “Honestly, I don’t understand how you like me back. I’m not the easiest to get along with. Never have been…”

“You seem easy to get along with to me.”

“Through much self reflection and reformation…you’d have hated me if we met ten years ago, more so if we met twenty. I was…arrogant, ambitious, angry…yeah. You’d have hated me.”

“Probably would have,” Bilbo said, smirking. He walked slowly to his desk, leaning against it. “But you’re not like that to me. Not here, not now.”

Thorin approached, resting his hands on Bilbo’s hips. “I had to grow up. That’s all.” He leaned down and took a softer kiss which Bilbo returned.

“I’m sorry I have to take you off—”

“If you weren’t sympathetic to me you’d have done it the moment you realized Kili was the fifteenth girl. I won’t say I’m not upset about that, but I do understand.” Thorin stepped back. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Bilbo nodded, heart pounding in his chest. Thorin spared him a final glance before leaving the office. He slumped his shoulders, bowing his head.

 _I should stop at the drug store before heading over,_ he thinks.

#

Fili sat a table away from them. For which, Kili was grateful. “Have you seen the Seattle Center yet?”

“No. I don’t think I’ll be able to see it.”

“Why not?!”

Kili couldn’t imagine not coming to Seattle and not visiting the Center. It was inconceivable! Even criminal! True, there wasn’t much to do there unless one went to the Science Center—but that’s beside the point. One must see the Space Needle up close and ride the attractions at the Fun Forest and tour the Science Museum, especially walk through the Butterfly Exhibit and there are also the story book productions at the Children’s Theater, the Pavilion…

“We’re leaving in a couple days and my guardian’s been keeping a tight leash on me since my dad kidnapped me.”

“Well, that won’t do! You _have_ to see it! You’ll love it! Okay, some of it’s for little kids specifically, but I’m almost thirteen and I still have fun whenever I go. And Fili’s eighteen. He still has loads of fun!”

“I don’t think he’ll like me running off…”

“Then call him and let him know. I’ll go talk Fili into taking us.”

“What about the cops that were assigned to look after us?”

“I think they’d like to go to. My Uncle loves it! Please?” Kili pouted and tilted her head to the side just so. Legolas blushed.

“I guess I could ask…”

“I’ll talk to Fi. Just a moment.” She jumped up and walked through the crowded chairs to Fili’s table. He tapped his pen against the text book he left open on the table. “Fili, my favorite big brother in the whole wide world?”

“What do you want now? Is the coffee date not enough?”

“Legolas hasn’t seen the Seattle Center yet and he’ll be leaving in a couple days. He’s calling his guardian to ask right now…”

“Fine. But only because my brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

Kili squealed, embracing him and returned to her table where Legolas was still attaining permission to go.

“Okay…thanks, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“He said yes?” she asked as he set his phone back down.

“Yep. You?”

“Yep.”

She glanced in Fili’s direction. He was packing up.

“We’ll be leaving soon, I guess. You’ll love it! I promise. Okay, maybe not _love_ , but you’ll have fun at least.”

“It’s hard not to have fun with you,” Legolas admitted.

Kili’s face felt warmer than before and her smile broadened. Legolas’ ears flushed pink. She averted her gaze to the floor.

“What are you two doing?” Fili asked, staring at them with crossed arms.

“Nothing,” Kili said, pulling Legolas along, arm linked around his.

#

“Hello? Hi, we’re heading to the Seattle Center. Could you meet us there? Just be as discreet as usual. Thanks. Yeah. I’ve got my eye on both of them.”

Fili hung up, opening the driver’s door while Legolas and Kili slid into the back seat, talking animatedly.

He didn’t understand why Thorin allowed it. True, keeping Kili in the dark has been useful so far, and maybe it would be a good idea to let her have a little fun before things spiraled out of control…

But was it wise? There was a total of twelve guards and only eight would be there. The Center was big. It’d be easy for a kid to get lost.

Or kidnapped.

Fili shook the thought out of his mind. He wouldn’t let that happen. Not to either of them. He might not like Legolas, but he didn’t wish that fate on the kid.

As for Kili, he’d fight to the death to protect her if necessary.

“So why not start at the Science Center and work our way to the Fun Forest?” he asked.

“Okay!” Kili chirped.

Fili only hoped Thorin wouldn’t kill him for this.


	24. Chapter 24

Outside the Science Center, where the water works resided, was completely deserted save for a few families walking around bundled in rainproof winter coats and children with rubber rain boots.

A mist sprinkled the hair they could not protect with hats. Kili led Legolas into the indoor exhibits, crowded with screaming children and their tired parents.

“Would you say it’d be good or bad if dinosaurs existed in present day America?” Kili asked, staring at the automatic brontosauruses.

Legolas hummed. “That’d depend on whether the dinosaurs just didn’t evolve or if they somehow passed through a time vortex to get here.”

“I was thinking of the first scenario.”

“Huh. In which case,” Legolas smirked at her. “I’d have to say that they’d be zoo kept with human handlers. They’d never be domesticated unless they were small enough to keep in homes, which I doubt many would be.”

“True.” They moved to examine the tyrannosaurus with its bloody jaws.

“Scenario two, on the other hand, we’d be going crazy trying to hide from the carnivorous dinos, the army would be driving in tanks and missiles would be going off…it’d be chaos.”

“Probably true, it’d be apocalyptic.”

“Yep.”

Legolas took Kili’s hand in his, pressing his lips just below her wrist, watching heat rise to her cheeks. “What was that for?”

“Nothing special,” Legolas shrugged. “I just wanted to kiss you at least once, but I don’t think your brother would appreciate me kissing your lips.”

“No. Probably not.” Kili spied Fili gnashing his teeth. “In fact, you may have overstepped your boundaries in kissing my hand.”

“I’ll go to my death happy at least,” Legolas joked. “Is that fair enough, my princess?” he bowed lavishly, grinning. Kili giggled.

“I suppose it’ll have to do, but I’d rather you try _not_ to incur my brother’s wrath, good prince.”

Legolas shrugged, following her through the arch. “It’ll be worth it.”

“Says you,” Kili laughed, punching Legolas’ arm. He scowled rubbing the offending shoulder. Kili tugged on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go see the butterflies.”

“Really?” Legolas frowned. “Butterflies?”

“Just be careful where you step—”

“Kili!”

She glared at Fili, stomping toward them. “I hate to cut your date short, but…I may have… _forgotten_ to tell Thorin we were coming here for a bit.”

Her glare deepened. “You _forgot?!_ More like _neglected_!! How could you _not_ tell Thorin?!”

“I’m sorry…” Fili whined, pouting. “Look, we’ll do one more thing, then we bolt. Choose wisely.”

Kili turned to Legolas. “What do you want to do?” He shrugged. “Not helping!”

“I don’t know! I’ve never _been_ here before!”

“Fine,” Kili crossed her arms. “How far is the EMP from here?”

“Not even five minutes,” Fili said, leading them out of the building in quick strides. Kili and Legolas jogged to keep up.

“EMP?”

“The Experience Music Project is a museum dedicated to rock and specifically Jimmi Hendrix.”

“Jimmi Hendrix?”

“He was born and raised in Seattle.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that.”

“I suppose it’s just Seattle trivia…Fili! Slow down!”

“Grow longer legs and maybe I wouldn’t have to,” he shot back.

“Jerk!”

#

_This place…_

_It’s further North than he wanted, but it’d work. Throw them off. He made the mistake of acting on the same day as he planned and was thwarted._

_At first it was amusing, but he wanted to kill._

_Even needed to kill at this point._

_To relish in holding a life in his hands and squeezing it out of existence. To see the fear in her eyes as she gasps for breath. To cut off her scream for help as she tries to fight him despite all futility…_

_He found a utilities closet, large enough to hold her until he was ready for her. He selected the biggest studio in the building, filled with mirrors and bars, probably used for classes. It was almost like the one he took Tauriel too when she was younger for ballet lessons._

_Back when she was young enough to fancy ballet._

_His fingers ghosted across the bronze bars, cold to touch. How many children enter here, learning to dance from a tall, lithe teacher? Pushing the limits of their flexibility?_

_Yes. Here would be good. Here, he will snuff the life of the Dancing Princess._

#

“Where were you two?” Thorin demanded the moment Fili and Kili stepped in. Nowhere they were supposed to be, given the wide eyed, cornered cat stares they gave him. He sighed. “I’ll just yell at you two later. Go do your homework while dinner’s cooking.”

“Oh God, he’s cooking!” Fili whispered. “I’m scared.”

“That makes two of us.”

“I followed the instructions on the box!” Thorin snapped, pointing at the giant Papa Murphy’s pizza box.

“At least it’ll be salvageable,” Kili assured him, grinning.

Thorin glared mockingly at her, undone by big brown eyes. “Careful what you say, Princess.” Kili grinned, opening her book. “However, and this is to both of you but _you_ especially Fili.”

They looked up at him again, the fear that was on their faces when they stepped into the room returned. Whatever they had told them, Thorin suspected they had agreed to lie.

“I want you both back home by four o’clock on week days. I figured that was obvious! We talked about it enough.”

“I called a little after four to let you know we went for coffee and were stuck in traffic,” Fili reminded him. Not that Thorin needed to be reminded. He was just beginning to panic despite telling himself to calm down as the minutes passed after four.

“And where did you go for coffee? There’s a Starbuck’s across the street.”

“Tully’s. That’s not across the street.”

Thorin shook his head. Bilbo would be here soon. He didn’t want to think about disciplining them tonight. “We’ll discuss this more tomorrow. Agreed?”

They deflated, sighing.

He definitely needed to talk to them—especially to Fili—but right now, he didn’t want to deal with it. There was just…too much to deal with at the moment and he hoped Fili would be smarter in helping him keep Kili safe from here on out.

A knock at the door brought his spirits up and he went to answer.

Bilbo smiled at him, a bag from Rite Aid in his hand.

“Come in.” Thorin stepped aside to let Bilbo enter. “Should I hide that in my room?” he whispered.

“I strongly suggest you do,” was the reply. The bag switched from Bilbo’s hand to Thorin’s. “Do I smell smoke.”

Thorin sniffed, a curse on the tip of his tongue.

“Saved it!” Kili called.

He slumped his shoulders. “You should stay if only to save us all from my terrible cooking.”

“That’d be a good reason to stay, I admit,” Bilbo joked, “But then there’d be a string of angry people who like my cooking moving to Seattle just for outrageously large dinner parties.”

“Sadly my family’s not fit for polite society.”

“Whatever gave you the impression it’d be polite?” Bilbo asked slyly, smirking. Thorin rolled his eyes.

“I should get this into my room before one of those two terrors start snooping. They’re doing homework in the kitchen, or will be.”

“Why so late?” Bilbo followed him, leaning against the door frame, crossing his arms.

Thorin pulled out the box of condoms and the lubricant, hiding them in the bedside table. “ _Someone_ decided it’d be smart to run off for a couple hours after school and not tell me,” he closed the drawer. “Thankfully they’re safe, but…”

“Thorin…”

“I know,” he snapped, frowning at Bilbo. Thorin sighed. “I’ll have to tell her now, but can it wait until tomorrow? What happened today is extremely rare and most likely due to my nephew’s lack in judgment. Especially given he knows what’s going on and that Kili’s next. He _knows_ and he also knows that he did something stupid. Chances are Kili coerced him.”

“Does she usually have her brother wrapped around her finger?”

“He’s not the only one wrapped around her finger. I just have a slightly easier time telling her ‘no’ when it needs to be said.”

Bilbo snorted. “Only slightly?”

“I don’t expect you to understand the power of big brown eyes. At least do me the courtesy of not underestimating said power.”

“Okay, I’ll try not to. What exactly needed saving?”

“Pepperoni and Supreme Pizza…”

“Ah. We should probably get some before they eat it all.”

“Probably should.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which is your preference? Top!Thorin or top!Bilbo? I’m sort of wondering where to go. I’ve written both and both men sort of have different ways of giving their lovers pleasure. I was going to do top!Thorin, but now I’m wondering if I should have him get his world rocked instead. Should be either the next chapter or the chapter after next, but that depends on whether they survive dinner with two little shits.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Votes came in and the chapter be here. Enjoy.

If anything, Thorin is glad that his niece and nephew like Bilbo. Fili may send suggestive, leering glances at them both, but Bilbo ignores it and Thorin glares, gnashing his teeth at the twerp. Kili keeps asking about working at the FBI and what new recruits should expect, when they’re allowed to go on the field, etc. Bilbo doesn’t break a beat, answering each question she throws at him with a friendly smile. He would glance at Thorin once in a while. It is seen by Fili, though perhaps not by Kili, and he’d leer again.

“Eat your pizza,” Thorin snapped.

“But I’m full.”

“ _Fili_.”

He rolled his eyes and managed to stuff another slice of pepperoni in his mouth.

After dinner, Bilbo helped with the dishes despite Thorin’s protests. “Let them finish their homework,” he whispered. “Get the stress out of the way. I don’t mind helping.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Bilbo kissed his cheek. “Thank you for dinner, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” Thorin mumbled, cheeks feeling a little warm.

“I think we’ll just do homework in the living room. Right, Ki?”

“Yeah.” Thorin glared at them, especially at Fili who winked at him behind Kili’s back.

“Funny kid.”

“He thinks so,” Thorin sighed. “I’m sorry about him. Fili’s usually better behaved. Usually.”

“Honestly, I think I got lucky. Not many kids like watching their parents find someone. Most of the time, it’s complete anarchy. The house literally in some cases becomes a battle field. So if the worst I have to deal with from your nephew is innuendo, then I’m good. I can live with that.”

Thorin shrugged. “I suppose it could have been worse…”

“It really could have been,” Bilbo said, leaning against the counter. “Some stepparents are amazingly good stepping into the role they find themselves in. However, the older the children, the more difficult it can be.”

“Did you…”

“No. But I had friends who did. Age gave me more perspective. But I hated their stepparents just as deeply as they did. Now, depending on the situation that they were in, I can judge whether it was fair to do so or not. Only one stepparent was fairly judged. The woman was awful. She fit the stereotypical evil stepmother role.”

Bilbo grit his teeth.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Thorin said.

Bilbo shrugged.

“My friends managed to move out when the time came. They were better off, but they refuse to see their parents unless it was just their dad. Still do, as far as I know.”

Thorin couldn’t imagine just…zoning out to such behavior. If anyone were to treat Fili and Kili so terribly he’d probably fire a clip into them on principle alone if he was pissed enough.

 _No one_ got away hurting his family.

Around ten, Kili went to bed.

Fili stayed up another hour, fine-tuning an essay for…Thorin didn’t quite know. He bade them goodnight and half an hour later, Thorin was certain they were asleep, or at least in bed.

Bilbo met him in his room. “Do you have any preference?” He asked.

“Preference?”

“Do you top? Or prefer to bottom? I’m personally all right with either arrangement.”

Thorin sat on the bed.

“Top,” he replied. “I prefer to top.”

Bilbo closed the distance between them and straddled his lap, fingers running through his beard, tracing the outline of his mouth before kissing him, nibbling on the bottom lip as his hands snaked around Thorin’s neck.

Thorin massaged Bilbo’s thighs, squeezing jean clad flesh as they slide up to his waist.

Impatience clawed at him. Thorin fought it, popping the button and unzipping the fly. He pushed Bilbo’s shirt upward, breaking the kiss to shove the offending article off.

Bilbo shuddered at his touch, nipples stiffening from the chill and the press of fingers.

He fisted Thorin’s buttoned shirt, pulling it out of the line of his pants and unbuttoning each. His fingers were cold against Thorin’s skin, but warming through contact. He pushed the fabric off Thorin’s shoulders, stealing another kiss.

He gasped into Thorin’s mouth when a hand slid against his erection, blocked by the cloth of his boxers. His hips shifted, trying to get more friction.

Thorin pulled his hand away, smirking at the growl he received from Bilbo.

He leaned back, rubbing circles into the skin above Bilbo’s pants before pushing his thumbs behind the waistband, nails gently scratching Bilbo, and pushing them down and off.

Thorin rolled them over, towering over Bilbo. He kissed Bilbo’s neck. His clavicle. His chest. He pinched the left nipple while sucking on the right, listening to Bilbo’s shallow breathing. He moved to the other breast, repeating his actions.

Bilbo ran his fingers through Thorin’s hair, head tipped back. Thorin could feel his gasps as he continued his trail downward, dipping his tongue into Bilbo’s navel.

“Thorin, please.”

Thorin smiled against the soft flesh of Bilbo’s stomach, nibbling on the right side of Bilbo’s navel and suckling the bruise, soothing with his tongue. He felt Bilbo’s legs spread wider and he moved down.

He diverted any attention Bilbo desired toward his cock to trace kisses down the right leg, nipping at Bilbo’s heel. He kissed the inner curve and the knuckles before moving back up to treat the left leg likewise. He left another bruise in the soft tissue of Bilbo’s inner thigh.

“ _Oh…_ Thorin, I need _…ah…_ ”

Thorin stood, stripping out of his pants and boxers. He ripped a condom packet open, sliding the plastic over his cock before putting one on Bilbo, smearing a small bead of pre-cum. He kissed Bilbo’s hip, reaching for the lube.

“Turn over,” Thorin commanded.

Bilbo obeyed, head bowed between his biceps, spreading his legs wide. Thorin bit back a whine as he squeezed lube into his hand, warming it between his fingers before tracing the taught ring with the tip of his index finger.

“Tell me if I hurt you.” Thorin whispered, pushing his finger in.

“You won’t, but if you insist.”

“I do. Hurting you is the _last_ thing I want to do.”

He twisted the finger around for a bit, waiting for Bilbo to relax.

Only then did Thorin add the middle finger. He twisted them in semicircles, hooked them and rubbed against the rectum, trying to ease Bilbo again before daring to stretch him, pushing his fingers against the inner walls of Bilbo’s pert hole.

Thorin kissed the small of Bilbo’s back, scissoring him just a little more before venturing a third finger within. He paused, hearing a whimper.

“Bilbo?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Could you…be a little faster?”

“S-sure.”

He thrust sharply up, earning a shiver.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

Thorin thrust his fingers into Bilbo several more times between stretching him, relishing the soft whines escaping Bilbo’s throat. He pulled his fingers out, turning Bilbo around.

Bilbo’s skin was flushed. His heavy lidded eyes were hued black. His lips were red from being bitten between his teeth. His hands lay beside his head fingers barely touching amber curls.

Thorin licked his lips, prying Bilbo’s legs a little further apart before guiding his cock into his mouth, giving a couple firm sucks.

He smirked at how Bilbo arched off the bed, gasping, whispering his name. He circled his tongue around the tip before swallowing him down to the root. He pulled away, wiping saliva off the corner of his mouth. Bilbo whined at the loss.

“Bastard.”

He could think of a couple retorts, but decided against it, coating his cock with lube before pushing Bilbo’s legs up to his shoulders, lining his cock with Bilbo’s entrance. He kissed him once before thrusting his hips against Bilbo’s ass, delving deeper into him, shifting so to find his prostate.

Bilbo’s mouth fell open in a silent scream. He bit Thorin’s shoulder to stifle any sound that may escape. Thorin rammed faster and harder into him, spurred by Bilbo digging his nails into his back and he ever deepening bite on his shoulder.

Thorin yanked Bilbo’s hair, pulling him off his shoulder. He shoved his tongue into Bilbo’s mouth, tracing the crevices of this mouth.

“Thorin, I’m— _nng—_ going to cum.”

“Then cum.”

He gripped Bilbo’s cock, stroking from root to tip, flicking his thumb over the slit and under the foreskin before sliding down and massaging his testicle and repeating.

A shiver raced through Bilbo as he came. His grip lessened and he fell back onto the bed, eyes closed in ecstasy as he waited for Thorin to finish.

Bilbo opened his eyes and stared directly at Thorin, biting his lip. Thorin felt his climax rip through him. He gripped the sheets beneath them, arms shaking and panting. He pulled out of Bilbo who whined again at the loss.

Thorin kissed his forehead, removing the condoms and managing to walk, albeit shakily, to the bathroom and dumped them in the garbage before returning to the bed. He climbed in beside Bilbo and pulled him close, resting his head atop the mass of curl.

“I knew it,” Bilbo chuckled.

“What?”

“You like post-coital cuddling.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“There’s a few…”

“Pity you had such insensitive louts for lovers then,” Thorin added, kissing the top of his head. “Goodnight?”

“’Night.”


	26. Chapter 26

Bilbo woke to the press of lips against the outer shell of his ear, sending a wave of pleasure through his body and he shuddered against the heat pressed against his back. He opened his eyes and turned around to look at the offender.

“Morning,” he greeted groggily.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Bilbo shuddered again. _How can one man have such a husky voice? It shouldn’t be that deep in the morning!_

“Not sure I believe you, but if you insist,” he teased. "What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

“Damn. I was hoping I could sleep in a little more.”

“You could.”

“I can’t,” Bilbo sighed, sitting up. His rear twinged a little, but otherwise hurt very little. He kissed Thorin, threading his fingers through black threads of hair. “I have to at least _try_ to beat the others to work at least _once_.”

Thorin’s snorted, sliding an arm behind his head. “How’s that been working for you?”

“It hasn’t yet,” Bilbo yawned. He stood stretching. “But I have to try at least _once_ , right?”

He picked up his clothes, stepping back into them. Thorin’s arms snaked around his waist, kissing his shoulder and neck.

“As much as I don’t like it, I should get up as well. I’ve two teenagers to yell at.”

“I figured you’d have done that yesterday all ready,” Bilbo said, turning around.

“I wanted to, but I feared that’d have killed my mood,” Thorin admitted. “Besides, since they did run off somewhere they weren’t meant to yesterday, I’ll have to tell Kili the truth now. If only to make her understand why running off can’t happen again. And Fili, well, he _knows._ He knew better and still acted poorly. Luckily it doesn’t seem like anything really bad happened. In fact, way Kili was beaming, it was probably very good.”

“But you’re still going to yell at them.”

“Yes.”

“I’d rather not be in the middle of awkward family moments, thanks.”

“Best hurry. Fili’s probably up by now and if I miss my window, they’ll _both_ be gone.”

Bilbo smiled, kissing him. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah.”

He finished dressing and left, striding out of the room. Bilbo relaxed when he entered the elevator, frowning. _Did I make a mistake sleeping with him?_ He wondered. He didn’t regret it. He was used to rougher play and half expected the same.

He had hoped for more this morning. But time, it seemed, was against him.

He straightened on arriving to the lobby and stepped out, spying Legolas Greenwood in the gift shop. He frowned and approached. He was turning a jeweled barrette in his hand. The design was floral. Blue flowers gleamed in the light alongside green leaves.

“Bit feminine, don’t you think?” he asked.

Legolas jumped, turning to him. He frowned at Bilbo. “It’s not for me. It’s for a friend.”

“Ah.”

“She has dark brown hair and brown eyes.” Legolas’ frown tipped into a smile and his cheeks tinged. “Should I go for the pink one instead?”

“Does she seem like the kind of girl who’d wear pink?”

“No. Not really…”

“Cooler colors match darker hair better. Blue isn’t so dark that it blends in too much and it’s not so bright it would clash. I hope your friend likes it.”

His blush deepened and spread. He grinned at Bilbo. “So do I.”

Bilbo watched the boy approach the register. His phone alerted him to another text. He stiffened, pulling the cell out.

_No more games.—the Big Bad Wolf_

#

“You’re lying,” Kili hissed, rigid in her chair.

Thorin shook his head. “Why would I lie to you, Princess?”

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. Kili, honey, everyone is working really hard to stop him.”

“But he’s elusive? Like Pellant?”

“Yes.” _Who the hell is Pellant?_

“I suppose I can understand that, then…but why me? Why is he after me? Do I match his M.O. or something?”

Thorin nodded. What point is there in keeping any more from her? “I am so sorry, Princess.”

“I know, but it doesn’t matter.” Kili stood and returned to her room.

Thorin sighed, massaging his temple.

Fili fidgeted against the wall. “Now what?” he asked. “Do we go to school?”

“You do,” Thorin sighed. “No need for both of us staying here and keeping an eye on her.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to call her school, tell them she’s taking a few sick days, though apart from the truth, I’ve no idea how to explain what’s going on.”

“Well, Thranduil’s face is on the news. You may as well tell them the truth,” Fili suggested.

“Perhaps…but then there’s the question of how long have I known and why I didn’t pull her out sooner.” Thorin shook his head. “I really thought it’d have been taken care of by now.”

“I know. I’m not the only one who hoped the same.” Fili flung his backpack over his back. “But you didn’t and you did say Kili’s our last chance, so…God, I hate myself for even _thinking_ it.”

Thorin scoffed. “Ditto.”

“I’ll be back around four.”

“All right.” Thorin held the phone to his ear, listening to the ring.

#

Kili gasped for breath, nose clogged from crying too much. She didn’t want to die and it felt so easy to simply hide in her bed for the rest of her life.

She sat up, wiping her eyes, despite the constant flow of tears, hiccupping.

 _This won’t do_ , she told herself, heading into the bathroom to clean herself up, deep in thought. _Stuff like this might happen a lot more often to me if I want to be a cop like Thorin._

Kili blew her nose and splashed her face. Her eyes were still red and puffy from her crying. She released a shaky breath and changed into more comfortable clothes—a baggy t-shirt and grey sweats, tying her hair into a half ponytail. Before leaving, she pocketed the key-card and her phone. She buckled her watch around her wrist, making sure the GPS was on.

“Thorin, I’m going to Legolas’.” She said, texting Legolas. “He’s downstairs in room three twenty-five. That okay?”

Thorin did not look as though it was okay, but nodded anyway. “Call or text me hourly, all right? Just to make sure you’re safe.” Kili normally wouldn’t have agreed, but knowing what she knew now, she understood his paranoia. She even felt it. Her phone beeped.

_Sure. I’ll leave the door open for you._

Kili didn’t move.

“Do you want me to walk you down?” Thorin offered.

 Kili nodded and he led her to the elevator. The walk to three twenty-five was no longer than usual, but felt longer with the anticipation of an attack. It was comforting for Kili when she noticed her uncle’s .40 caliber strapped to his waist.

The door was closed. Kili frowned, checking the text again.

“Something wrong?”

“He said he’d leave the door open.”

“It’d not be smart to,” Thorin assured her, squeezing her shoulder. Kili knocked and heard the latch click. Legolas beamed at her. His smile died seeing Thorin. “Remember…”

“Check in hourly,” Kili recited. “It’s nine-ten right now.”

“All right.” He waited for Kili to enter before leaving.

“What’s up?” Legolas asked as soon as the door closed. “Why’d your uncle walk you down?”

“No reason,” Kili mumbled, feeling more tears readying to spill out her eyes. Legolas didn’t look convinced. She embraced him, “The Fairy Tale Killer’s after me. Thorin just told me this morning.” Legolas was tense.

“He’s sure?”

“Yes.”

“One hundred percent?”

“Yes.”

Legolas pushed her off, holding her shoulders. Kili didn’t understand the fury in his eyes. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“You’re just a kid. My uncle’s a cop. Sorry, Legolas, I like you a lot but I trust my uncle can protect me well enough in these situations. It’s just…I’ve never been specifically targeted before.”

“Have you been targeted before?”

“No, but…I guess that’s beside the point…”

Legolas led her to the couch. “Would you like something to drink? There’s a couple hot chocolate packets if you like…” Kili nodded.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to say you’re weak.”

“I know. And I understand. Having a cop for an uncle probably helps a lot.”

Kili nodded. “It does. I’ve never given thought to how much danger there probably is for me. Most kids our age probably don’t think about it…”

“No. They don’t,” Legolas said, returning to her side. “Even so, I won’t let him hurt you. I might not be as good as your uncle is at the moment, but I won’t let him hurt you.”

Kili rested her head on his shoulder. “You sound like you can stop him.”

“I don’t know if I can, but I can try.” He sighed. “He’s—don’t be scared, but he’s my dad. That’s why I came to Seattle.” Kili sat up. “Please don’t be afraid, Kili. I didn’t know he’d go after you and I don’t like what he’s been doing. My dad’s sick, Kili. He’s supposed to be in a nuthouse back in Boston.”

“Why?”

“The doctor’s call it Extended Greif Syndrome,” Legolas began, “I had a sister, a twin. She was murdered and it drove him over the edge. He wasn’t the same after. He’s not been my dad in a year. At this point, he’s not my dad anymore.”

“Schizophrenia I can understand. Same if it were a sociopathic mentality, but to kill others because you’re _grieving_?”

“You don’t know what it’s like to have your family broken up and I pray you never do. The last year’s been difficult for me because of what happened to my sister and my dad losing his mind…Kili, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a year. I think I might—”

They were interrupted by the sound of a bottle smashing against the floor. A smell akin to air freshener or Windex permeated the air. The last thing Kili sees before sinking into unconsciousness is a man standing in the room, wearing a gas mask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...shit just hit the fan.


	27. Chapter 27

Bilbo woke. His head spun with the room, rattling against his skull. He groaned, holding his head.

_“He’s awake!”_

Someone helped him up and his head felt it had been introduced to a sledge hammer.

“What happened?” he asked the EMP as he had an oxygen mask strapped to his face.

“Someone planted chloroform in the vents.” She explained. “Everyone in the vicinity was knocked out.”

Bilbo swore under his breath, trying to sit up. She pushed him back down. “You don’t want to move.”

“You don’t understand, he’s hunting her _now_.”

“And there’s nothing you can do right now.”

Bilbo seized her collar, pulling her down to look into his eyes. “Listen to me,” he hissed. “The Fairy Tale Killer is going to strike soon and if you take me to a hospital, a little girl may die. Do you get that? Give me something for this fucking headache and let me go.”

“You’re not able to do anything in the state you’re in.”

He shoved her away and climbed off the stretcher, reaching for his phone to speed dial Thorin.

#

 Thorin barely finished the text he was intending to send Kili, furious she hadn’t called in, when his phone rang. He answered.

“Kili?”

“ _Where is Kili?_ ” Bilbo replied.

“She’s supposed to be downstairs with Legolas.”

“ _Fuck!_ ”

“What’s going on?”

“ _Precinct was ambushed. I just got in and smelt Windex. Next thing I know, I’m being carted by a medivac. Chloroform. Is she still downstairs?_ ”

“I told her to text or call every hour to let me know, it’s been ten minutes and given that she knows what the fuck’s going on now, she wouldn’t forget to give fucking piece of mind.”

Nothing.

“Bilbo?”

“ _Go downstairs and check. Be careful. The room may still be toxic._ ”

Thorin picked up one of his bags, pulling a gas mask out of it. He stepped out of the room and glanced at one of the guards Bilbo assigned Kili. “Go check on security.” The guard ran, turning on his walkie. Thorin took the stairs, jumping three at a time. He put the mask on before running to room three twenty-five and pounded on the door.

“Kili?!” he shouted, voice muffled by the mask. Thorin took a step back, removing his .40. He slammed his foot into the door, which flew open, unlocked. He stepped inside. The room was empty. Completely empty. Other than a hot pot of water and two mugs filled with cocoa powder, Thorin wouldn’t have known Kili was ever here. He stepped on something that did not belong on the floor and looked down.

Two phones, both broken.

One was Kili’s.

“Bilbo, they’re not here.”

“ _What?_ ” Thorin stepped out of the room, removing his mask once he was sure he’d not breath in the traces of chloroform possibly still in the room.

“Legolas and Kili are gone.”

“ _Their phones—_ ”

“Were taken apart and broken.” Thorin swallowed, trying not to panic despite how fast his heart beat against his chest and how cold he felt. His head hurt from how fuzzy it felt, making it difficult to think. “Kili’s wearing her watch. I can track her with that.”

“ _Tell me the number,_ ” Bilbo demanded. “ _I’ll run it. We’ll get her back._ ”

 _No we won’t. Not if he knows we’re coming._ Thorin closed his eyes.

“ _Thorin!_ ”

He hung up heading downstairs to the lobby and straight to the reception desk. He flashed his badge at the lobbyist and aimed his gun at him.

“Let me use your computer or so help me…”

The man backed away, hands raised in the air. He never broke eye contact with Thorin as he stepped behind the counter and accessed the information he needed to find Kili.

#

She first notices that her head _hurts_. It may as well have been hit by an anvil. Second, when she dares to open her eyes, is dizziness. Kili groans, easing onto her feet.

“Hello?”

“Kili?”

She spun around and grabbed her head, leaning against a metal shelf. When the room stopped spinning, she recognized the boy.

“Legolas!”

“Ow,” he hissed massaging his head.

“Sorry,” Kili whispered, shakily stepping toward him. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know. You okay?”

“As okay as I can be. What happened?”

“I don’t know. The last thing I remember is you telling me your dad was the Fairy Tale Killer and smelling…Windex or something like that…but nothing after that.”

“Must have been him… _damn it_.”  Legolas paced through the space available. “Okay. First off we have to get out of here. Find something we can use. A vent we can climb through, a window…something we can escape out of. I’ll do that. Call the police.”

“My phone does have a GPS,” Kili muttered, reaching for her pocket. Her blood ran cold. “Legolas.”

“What?”

“My phone’s gone.”

Legolas whipped around to face her. He checked his own pockets. “So is mine.”

Kili hid her face in her hands, fresh tears welling in her eyes. “Okay…okay…my watch _also_ has a GPS,” she said. “If it’s been more than an hour, then Thorin will definitely go looking for us and if he finds our phones, he’ll track us with my watch.”

“How positive are you that’ll work?”

Kili shrugged. “I’m not. Thorin never had to use the GPS features before. What I am certain of is that if I don’t check in with him by ten past ten, he’ll _freak_.” Kili shook her head. “I don’t even _want_ to think what will happen when he realizes we’ve been taken.”

Legolas sighed. “Okay. Either way we spin it, we have to get out and call the police.” He looked at the ceiling. “Kili, there’s a vent.” He pointed at the said hole.

“Think we can find a screwdriver?”

“You think you can fit through it?”

Kili bit her lip. “Lift me up,” she said. Legolas knelt, allowing her to straddle his shoulders. He gripped her ankles and pushed up, grunting. “Sorry. I must be heavy.”

“Nah, weight endurance isn’t really something I needed to focus on. Speed, on the other hand, yeah…So will you fit?”

“I think so. Put me down.” Once her feet touched the floor, they both searched for a screwdriver. Dance shoes, posters, cleaning supplies…but no tools, let alone a screwdriver.

“Found something!” Legolas called, holding up a metal paint scraper. The handle was wood and the scraper itself was a thin, oval shaped scrap of metal covered in paint chips.

“Will that work?” Kili asked.

Legolas shrugged. “We can try. C’mon, get on my shoulders.” He knelt down again and walked her toward the vent before handing her the paint scraper. The screw loosened slowly and the scraper often slid out of the divots, scraping at the iron.

“Legolas, do you think you’ll be able to fit in here too. It looks a bit tight for you…”

“I’m not going with you.”

Kili glanced down at him. “What?”

“Even if I could fit in it, I’d still need a way up.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Kili, you have to. He wants to kill you, so _you_ have to get out and get to the police. I can hold him off if I need to, but he won’t kill me.”

“He’ll know you helped me.”

“Yes. He’ll be pissed with me, but I only care that you get somewhere safe and back to your family. I’ll be fine. Promise.”

Kili stopped struggling with the screws. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going to fight with you on this. You’re getting out of this alive if it’s the last thing I do, you understand?”

“All right, all right.” She resumed unscrewing the vent, biting her lip.

“Kili?”

“Yes?”

“This may be the _worst_ possible time, but here.” She glanced down feeling Legolas shift beneath her. He pulled out a clip glimmering in the dim light. “Just in case.”

“In case what?”

“We don’t see each other again.”

“You’re an idiot and a sap,” Kili muttered.

Legolas scowled. “Just take it, Woman.”

“Fine.”

 Kili took it from his hand, nerve endings pricked by the hard edges. She examines the barrette, heart fluttering as she turns it in her hand. She bites the paint scraper handle so to have both hands available to put it in. Once secure she takes the paint scraper out of her mouth.

“Thank you.”

“Kili, hurry.”

A few minutes more passed before one of the four screws was loose enough for her to twist out with her fingers. She handed it to Legolas. Their fingers barely brushed against each other’s.

The door opened and Kili gasped, dropping the paint scraper.

The man standing in the doorway was dressed in black cargo pants, sweater, and latex gloves. He wore a grey and white werewolf mask. The mask’s eyes were deep blue. The snarling snout emitted no noise, though Kili felt she ought to hear growling.

Legolas knelt so she could get down. Once her feet were firmly planted on the floor, he shielded her. “Dad, stop,” he said. He didn’t sound nearly as brave as he probably meant to. “Dad, please don’t. You don’t have to hurt her. Please. I love her.”

Kili gripped the back of Legolas’ sweater.

“Step aside,” the man—the Fairy Tale Killer—demanded. Legolas didn’t move.

Kili glanced at the shelf. She jumped at it, trying o push. Legolas spied her and went to her aid. The shelf toppled over the man and they ran.


	28. Chapter 28

Kili skidded to a halt to pull the fire alarm. The bell pierced her ears and for a moment, she was frozen, holding her head.

“ _Kili_!” Legolas shouted, seizing her arm and pulling her along.

They rammed into the doors—which didn’t budge. Legolas rattled the chains holding the doors closed.

“ _Damn it!_ ” he shouted, beating his fist on the door. “Come on. There’s got to be another exit.” They ran toward a staircase, feet pounding against the steps. Kili’s foot twisted, stepping down wrong, and she screamed, ramming into Legolas. He seized the rail and steadied her. “You okay?”

“I think so.”

At the bottom of the stairs, they came to another door. Legolas twisted the knob. The door creaked open. He peered inside. Kili shivered, breathing heavily and glancing behind up the stairs.

“We’re safe.” He pushed Kili inside and followed after her, closing the door and locking it. “That should hold him off.”

“You don’t think we…killed him?” Kili’s throat tightened at the thought.

“Only if it was really well placed and he was still moving when we ran out, so it’s likely we just injured him," Legolas assured her. "To be honest, a year ago, I’d never be able to even _fathom_ hurting him.”

“Well, I can’t imagine wanting to throw a shelf onto Thorin either,” Kili agreed.

Legolas knelt, clutching his stomach. “Legolas?”

“I’m fine," Legolas said, groaning. "I just feel a little nauseas. Give me a moment.” Kili rubbed his back as he gulped down air, eyes fixed on the door. He stood, arm still wrapped around his middle. He had a greenish pallor. “We should keep going.”

“You’re still sick.”

“I’ll be fine, but we have to keep moving. I don’t want him to find you. Let’s go.”

They walked away from the door. Kili had her arms around Legolas’ waist, both supporting him and clinging to him as though he were her lifeline. Her foot throbbed with each step. Her head buzzed, making it increasingly difficult to think. She needed to think on something else other than their situation.

“Legolas, when you said you loved me, did you—”

“Mean it?”

Kili nodded. Legolas blushed, though it barely showed.

“I think I do,” he said. “You’re cute, funny, and smart. And you think I’m funny. At least you laugh at my jokes. And you don’t look at me with pity. I get you were a little freaked out when I told you my dad was the Fairy Tale Killer, but you haven’t once since finding out freaked out because of it or…well…you get the idea.”

“Well, you’re _not_ your dad. And yes, I think you’re funny. And you’re definitely cute too. And while I’m sorry about what happened to your family, pity is the last thing you probably need or want after a year of dealing with that. Honestly I don’t know if I could be as strong as you have been. And even now,” she grinned. “You’re doing what not many people can do.”

“So are you. I don’t think I’d have been able to make the decision to push the shelf.”

Kili blushed. “I just…it was there and I…something had to be done…well…so I…I…” She gasped when Legolas cut her off, pressing his mouth to hers. “Bad timing.”

“Very,” he agreed.

The door banged, indicating a presence behind it. They ran (in Kili’s case, hobbled) for the window leading outside. To where, Kili couldn’t say, but it was their only chance for escape. Legolas turned the latch, grunting and Kili pushed against the screen. She heard boxes clatter.

“Kili, go!”

She obeyed, gripping at blades of grass.

Two hands gripped her ankles and pulled her back inside. She banged her head against the carpeted concrete and her back ached from the vibrations. The man hovered over her, arms outstretched. Kili grunted, slamming her foot into his stomach. She scrambled to her feet and ran for the stairs. She tripped, injured ankle acting up from the pressure she put on it. The same hands gripped at her throat and squeezed. She tore at them, trying to pry them off.

She couldn’t breathe.

#

The car skidded to a halt outside the Northwest Dance Network building. Thorin didn’t bother to turn off the car. Within, he could hear the fire alarm screaming. He sprinted to the door and rammed it with his shoulder, swearing when it didn’t budge. He rattled the door. He cocked his gun and aimed, firing two shots into the lock before kicking it.

The door opened, revealing the chains that held it fast and shot again, this time at the padlock. The chains fell free and he kicked again. The doors flew open and he ran inside, breathing deeply, listening. Depending on when the fire alarm began, he had perhaps less than five minutes…

Even now he heard the sirens of fire trucks closing distance ringing in tandem with the fire alarm. Thorin took a breath, trying to find a clue—something that would lead him to Kili.His eyes spotted a door left ajar and he approached, gun aimed at the floor.

_Let go of her! Let go!_

He sprinted toward the voice, down the stairs. He rammed his shoulder into the door below. A man in a werewolf mask straddled Kili, latex-gloved hands on her throat. Legolas was trying to pull him off. It was all, perhaps, two seconds before all Thorin saw was red. He aimed his .40 caliber.

“HEY!!!”

Thranduil and Legolas looked up. Legolas jumped off.

**_BANG!!!_ **

Thranduil’s head recoiled from the shot. The plastic of the mask mixed with blood, bone, and gray matter, splattering the wall behind them. He slumped forward and Kili pushed him off, crying and gasping for breath. She crawled away. Thorin’s hands shook. He reset the safety and sheathed the caliber. Kili struggled to her feet and ran to him. He fell to his feet, engulfing her in a hug, petting her hair, kissing her forehead.

“I got you, Princess,” he whispered. “You’re okay. I got you.”

The room swarmed with firefighters and cops alike, staring at the scene before them. Thranduil, the Fairy Tale Killer, with a bullet entry to the head from a ten foot range, the bullet in question embedded into the wall. Legolas slumped in a corner, staring at his father’s corpse. And Thorin holding Kili. Thorin stood, lifting Kili into his arms.

“Call Agent Baggins,” he ordered.

#

When Bilbo arrived, a crowd had already appeared, standing on the sidewalks, an EMP had its back open. Thorin sat there, holding Kili. Legolas sat beside him. Both children were wrapped in blankets.

Bilbo walked past the yellow tape. “What happened?” he demanded.

“He was strangling Kili. I shot him.”

“Is he alive?”

Thorin shook his head. “I couldn’t let him…I couldn’t…”

Bilbo hushed him. “I understand.”

The coroners came up, carrying the corpse in a body bag. Bilbo stopped them, showing his badge. “I want an extensive autopsy later, what can you give me now?”

“Shot in the head. Bullet went straight through. Forensics is already at work in the basement and in a storage closet. He was hit in the back. Something big and metal fell on him. There’s a metal shelf in the closet that’s been toppled.”

Bilbo nodded, sending them on their way. He glanced at Thorin. Rory probably wasn’t going to like this, but as far as Bilbo was concerned, the case was just about over. All that was left was paperwork. And one paperwork was out of the way…two of his biggest cases would be over and done.

_Who knows how many girls Thorin saved apart from his niece…_


	29. Chapter 29

“ _Durin was_ not _supposed to be_ anywhere near _this case!_ ”

Bilbo rubbed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am aware, Sir. He acted alone.”

“ _Did you remove him from the task force?_ ”

“I did. From there, he acted alone in protecting his niece. Director Brandybuck, in taking the actions he did Detective Durin saved only _God_ knows how many girls. In addition, Sir, my orders _were_ dead or alive. I was unaware it mattered who took the killing shot.” Bilbo drummed his fingers against table, waiting for an answer, if any.

“ _Fax me your final field report tomorrow. See you in two days, Bilbo._ ”

“Yes, Sir.”  Bilbo waited for the click of the phone on the other end before hanging up. He stood and exited his office. Thorin leaned against the wall. “Where is Kili?”

“She and Legolas are with the psychologist right now.”

“I thought you’d be in there with her.”

He shook his head. “They don’t want me to be there…something about having a full analysis of the trauma she underwent. Greif counselor for Legolas…” He hid his eyes behind his hand, exhaling shakily. Bilbo stepped toward Thorin, taking his hands in his. He hadn’t any idea what else could be said. “When…when do you return to Boston?”

“My AD wants the field report tomorrow,” Bilbo bit his lip, stroking his thumb against Thorin’s knuckles. “I leave the next day.”

He glanced up, biting his lip. It seemed him that something had been injured in him. It was incredibly rare for anyone to find themselves in a situation where they take a life. Bilbo couldn’t fathom what Thorin must feel. Or think. He squeezed his hands.  

“Could you…stay with me tonight?” Thorin asked.

“Yes. I’ll stay with you. Would you like something to drink?” Thorin shook his head. “At least sit down,” Bilbo urged, “You’re legs probably want to give out. Someone’s already taken your car back to you house. A squad car will take you, Kili, and Legolas back to the hotel and you can pack your things. Another is already bringing Fili here from school so you can all go back together and go home. Okay? And I’ll meet you at your home around five…”

He isn’t sure if talking about any of this will actually help Thorin keep his mind off the events that took place two hours ago. And Thorin doesn’t give him any indication that it does or not. But he obeys, letting Bilbo guide him to a chair, never releasing his hands. Bilbo knelt before him, balanced on the balls of his feet.

“You saved lives, Thorin, today. Not just Kili’s or Legolas’ but only _God_ knows how many others would have died if you didn’t take that shot…” Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. True though it was, no one knows the true horror that comes from taking a life. Bilbo didn’t. There were situations where his gun was handy…

“I was furious.” He blinked, meeting Thorin’s eyes. “I didn’t register that it was Thranduil. At all. All I knew in that moment was that someone was trying to hurt my little girl and I just…I just fired. In that moment I could have killed Legolas too…had he not jumped out of the way.”

“But he did.”

“Doesn’t matter…I could have killed him in the same instant if he was a beat too slow.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo squeezed his hands harder. “You didn’t. That’s what matters. It’s done. It’s past. Dwelling on a scenario that never happened isn’t going to help anyone.” Bilbo straightened, letting go of Thorin’s hands. “Would you like me to check on Kili?” Thorin nodded. He walked down the hall, knocking on the door before entering. The counselor frowned at him. “How’s it going?”

“She’s not talking.” The counselor stood and joined him in the hall. “She keeps massaging her throat. Probably because she is wondering if she’s still there…”

“Will she develop PTSD?”

“Maybe…it’s quite likely she will. I’d like to talk to her uncle about finding her a therapist. CBT would be a good type of course for her. Maybe trauma focused-CBT. Her uncle would need to see the therapist he chooses for her anyway to learn how best to help her through this. After his own psych evaluation.”

Bilbo nodded. Not many cops enjoy having their heads shrunk, required or not. He didn’t like it either at first, but after Gollum, he did have his sanity questioned a few times.  And was nearly always dragged to the FBI’s shrink early on—especially by Rory. “Maybe talk to him about it now,” he suggested. “We’re waiting for his nephew, but after that, I’d let them go home.”

The counselor nodded. “Well, Kili’s not talking yet. A therapist she can talk to would be good. She should recover quickly enough, a year at most, if treated correctly.”

Bilbo agreed. I didn’t seem right to look at her and wonder if just yesterday she was a bouncing, inquisitive pre-teen with a bright smile. For Thorin, it might take longer. He opened the door. “Kili, would you like to see your uncle now?”She jumped out of her chair and ran out of the room. She spotted Thorin instantly and sprinted to him, clutching him tightly. Thorin lifted her onto his lap, rocking her in his arms.

#

The night was sleepless in the Durin household.

Bilbo spent most of the time editing his report for Rory. Kili was sandwiched between Fili and Thorin, afraid to close her eyes because she saw the mask’s eyes bearing down on her when she did. She needed sleep, but was too afraid to sleep and woke from nightmares, screaming until either Fili or Thorin calmed her down.

He sent his report in around six that morning and checked on the trio. Fili played with Kili’s hair, eyes drooping. Kili seemed to be the only one alert. Thorin was deep asleep, head pillowed on his own shoulder.

“I think Kili should go back to school today,” Fili whispered. Bilbo frowned.

“Shouldn’t you be discussing that with Thorin?”

“Let him sleep. He needs to as much as she does. Could you just…call in his place, explain what’s going on with Kili and why she’s sleep deprived—”

“No. I can’t. Besides, whenever there’s a trauma in the family, students get at least a week to recover. Besides, Kili,” he looked at her. “Do you want to go to school today? I don’t advise it, but perhaps we can come to a compromise if you think it will help.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“You’re brother or uncle can go to your school and get a copy of the lesson plan from your teachers if you’d rather do that.”

Kili bit her lip before nodding. “I think I’d like that.”

“All right,” Bilbo sighed. “Fili would you mind doing that? I’ve nowhere to be and Thorin is still asleep…though I’ve no idea how.” He rubbed his neck, not wanting to imagine the pain Thorin will feel when he wakes.

“Sure,” he yawns. “Text me a reminder after school.”

“Before that, though, would you like waffles?”

Fili pulled out the waffle iron for him while he mixed the batter. “Thanks,” he said, setting the table. Bilbo turned to him.

“For what?”

Fili shrugged fetching butter, jam, and syrup. “I haven’t seen my uncle like someone since he took us in. Not sure why, he maybe thought I’d not be able to handle having another adult walk into my life after my parents died. It would have been fine if it were just Kili since she was so young…” he shrugged. “But overall, I don’t know. And Kili likes you to, almost as much as Thorin does but for different reasons. You let him work the case even though you found out that Kili was next.”

“I still took him off the team.”

“Was that your decision though?”

“No. I’d have kept him working with us. He’s a good cop.”

“I know. Besides, weren’t you supposed to take him off anyway?” Bilbo shrugged, pouring batter into the waffle iron. “You’re not a maverick are you?”

He laughed. “Only sometimes,” Bilbo replied when he could. “Only when I think it’s necessary to go against the book, but otherwise, I’m _very_ by the book. Not rebellious at all. If I didn’t have confidence in your uncle that I had, I’d have taken him off the team the moment I found out Kili was a potential victim. All in all, I’m glad it’s over.”

“I think a lot of people are. Bilbo—Agent Baggins—”

“Bilbo’s fine.”

“What’s going to happen to my uncle now?”

Bilbo rescued the waffle, set it on a plate, and made another. “He’ll face a review board to figure out if shooting Thranduil intending to kill was necessary. Personally, given the testimony he gave me, which is that he found Thranduil strangling Kili, that his actions saved who knows how many more girls in the process of rescuing your sister, and that the orders I was given was ‘dead or alive,’ I believe it was. He’ll be sent for a psych evaluation which will then determine whether he’s fit to return to the field. In the meantime, he may be working at a desk or perhaps given low profile cases for a while. As for Kili,” Bilbo made a third waffle. “She may have PTSD, which is a normal reaction to what she went through. That will be treated accordingly. The counselor who spoke to her yesterday suggested TF-CBT. Right now, she’s attached to Thorin’s hip which is also normal. My own boy did the same when he was rescued from a similar attack. The bastard recently died, but he was in witness protection for a couple years. He’ll be coming home when I go back to Boston.”

“You have a son?”

“A nephew.”

“How old is he?”

“Ten, almost eleven now.” Another waffle was added to the growing pile. “It’ll be good to have him back…” _Very good._

“Oh God,” he heard Thorin groan. “I smell pancakes…what happened now?”

Fili snorted. “We usually have a cooked meal like this if something’s up.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “How’s your neck?”

“Shut it.”

“That’s the only thing wrong right now. And it’s _waffles_.”

“Made with pancake ba—oh. Never mind,” Thorin rubbed his neck, “Remind me never to fall asleep on the couch again.”

“You always do and you always say that and it always slips my mind,” Fili added sheepishly. He grinned. “Where’s Kili?”

“Asleep at last,” Thorin sighed, stretching. “And a good thing too. She’ll need it.”

Bilbo set the pile of waffles on the table. “I’ll make fresh ones for her when she wakes up.”


	30. Chapter 30

Thorin and Bilbo alternated checking on Kili while Fili was at school. She managed to get another three or four hours of sleep before screaming awake from another nightmare. Bilbo left them alone while making a light lunch for the three of them, allowing Thorin time to calm her down. He went to take a nap upstairs in the guestroom, allowing Thorin and Kili time alone. She insisted on watching _the Hunger Games_. Over all, he was tired in a way he hadn’t felt since Kili was little. He wanted to sleep and to forget everything that has passed. If just for a little while.

Fili returned around four o’clock handing a manila folder to Kili.

“What is that?” Thorin asked.

“Homework,” Kili said, sitting at the table. “Fili said he’d get it for me. Just so that I have something else to concentrate on.” Thorin nodded approvingly. If it kept her busy and also up with school, he’d not complain.

“Would you mind if the two of us went to see a movie after dinner?” Fili asked quietly. Thorin frowned and narrowed his eyes, daring Fili to defend his suggestion.

“I’ll keep my eye on her,” Fili added hastily. “And I know it’s really soon, but…” he lowered his voice. “Bilbo is leaving tomorrow. I can at least keep Kili distracted for you so you can say goodbye on a more personal level. If Kili doesn’t want to go, then I won’t press her, but I’ll at least keep her busy…”

“I want to go see _Frozen_.” They turned to Kili, staring up at them, bottom lip pushed out in a pout and brown eyes staring imploringly at Thorin. Thorin sighed, massaging the back of his neck.

“All right. _But_ ,” he turned to Fili. “If your sister starts screaming or hyperventilating or in _any_ way shows that she is afraid or panicked, you come _straight home_. Is that clear? I don’t care if the movie’s just starting or if you’re five feet from your car in the driveway.”

“Yes, Uncle Thorin,” they chorused. They sat in the living room, doing their homework. For Kili, she had a whole week, unlike her brother.

Thorin worried it was too soon to let Kili venture outside, but what else could be done? He didn’t quite know. The counselor had made several suggestions for him, all of which made him feel nervous. He wasn’t sure he could handle a teenager with PTSD. And last night seemed to dampen his hopes. (Though he did think sending Kili to a shrink would help her overcome the experience…)

#

Dinner was a quiet affair. No one really felt like talking and Bilbo wished there was something to talk about. After the siblings aided him with the dishes, they left. “Where are you two going?”

“Movie theater,” Kili said, shrugging he coat on before freeing her long hair. Bilbo almost didn’t catch the glimmer of a jewel barrette holding her thick main back. “Thorin said it was okay.”

Hearing that Fili was stealing his sister away to see a movie outside the house made him anxious. _Really?_ He thought in Thorin’s direction. He read Bilbo’s expression and shrugged. Before he could interject his own opinion (wanted or not) the duo had already closed the door behind them. “You really decided it was okay to let them go to the movies?”

“I told them to come back if Kili has a panic attack. And they’re seeing _Frozen_. They _may_ change their minds and see _Catching Fire_ instead…knowing their tastes.” Bilbo still didn’t agree, but decided not to press further. “Why did you allow it anyway? Especially so soon after…”He didn’t finish.

“Normally I wouldn’t have," Thorin said. "It'd never crossed my mind. But Fili wanted to give us a chance to say goodbye or something like that.” Bilbo’s cheeks warmed. “You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. My flight’s at noon.”

Silence.

Thorin sat on the couch, head bowed. Bilbo didn’t know what to do or say. He knew this day would come.

Bilbo sat beside him. “I do want to stay with you,” he admitted. “But right now, that’d be…ill advised.”

“I know. There aren’t any guarantees that you’ll convince your AD to let you transfer, and there’s your nephew to think about now that he’s coming home.”  Bilbo studied Thorin. His shoulders were slumped. His head bowed. Hands folded. “Can I do this?” Thorin asked.

“Do what?”

“I don’t know if I can take care of Kili after what happened…She’s alive, yes, but…” Bilbo hushed him, taking one on Thorin’s hands in his.

“Kili is remarkably strong,” Bilbo assured him. “A blind man could see it. And she’ll bounce back. I don’t think you need to worry about Kili, Thorin. And there are programs to help her overcome her trauma that will work directly with you and offer help for you as well so you can best handle it. The nightmares are a natural reaction to what’s happening to Kili. I strongly believe she’ll be fine in a few months. And so will you.”

“Alone, though? I don’t know if I can—I know you think we’ll be fine and maybe we will be, but I don’t…I am not convinced we’ll be fine. I’m frightened, Bilbo.” Thorin looked at him. His brow was furrowed, mouth turned into a pout, and eyes glossy.

 _Oh._ Bilbo pressed his forehead to Thorin’s and squeezed his hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You have my number, but texting me or e-mail works best if you ever need to talk. I’ll try to be available as often as possible, but I can’t make promises that I will be…” he swallowed, talking made difficult as his throat closed up. “I can’t make promises I don’t know if I can keep.”

“I’m well aware.”

Bilbo wished Thorin didn’t seem so sad by his leaving. He pressed his lips to Thorin’s mouth, slipping his free hand around the back of Thorin’s neck as the kiss deepened. Thorin’s arms closed around his waist allowing Bilbo’s other hand to join the other in Thorin’s hair.

An angry, quiet curse broke them apart. Thorin pulled Bilbo down the hallway to the master bedroom. “May I have you just…just one more time?”

Bilbo nodded, letting Thorin guide him to the bed. He fell back onto the comforter, crawling back as Thorin climbed on top of him. His fingers laced between Bilbo’s own. His eyes stared into Bilbo’s, intense and promising.

He pressed his nose and lips against Bilbo’s neck and Bilbo turned his head to give him more access to the tender flesh. Thorin’s steady breath tickled. His teeth pinched the skin between sucking and lathing. His hips ground down. Bilbo pushed up to meet Thorin’s, wishing there were less clothes between them and that he could remedy this…

He slipped his hands out of Thorin’s grasp, rolling him over so to straddle him. Bilbo pulled his shirt over his head before trying to rip Thorin’s off. Thorin let him undress him, pupil’s dilated enormously. His hands grasped Bilbo’s hips before daring to remove pants. He got as far as loosening them before Bilbo climbed off to remove them.

Thorin’s tongue darted over his lips. Bilbo leaned over him, taking another kiss as his fingers pulled at the band of Thorin’s sweats and boxers. Bilbo knelt before Thorin, eyes fixed on his engorging cock. He grasped it at the base, pleased at the harsh intake of breath from Thorin.

“Bilbo…”

He swallowed the head, tongue lathing it and poking at the slit before trying to take in the entire length. His own cock pulsed as his hand moved to fondle Thorin’s sack, heavy in his hands. Bilbo sucked, nibbling just a tad over a vein and relishing the moans and repetition of his name escaping his lover. Bilbo released Thorin with a pop.

“Condoms and lube. Now.”

“Dresser. Right beside you. Top drawer.”

He opened the said drawer sliding a condom onto Thorin’s cock before squeezing a generous amount of lube into his hand. He straddled Thorin again, working himself open and never breaking contact with Thorin’s eyes, now gone black with desire, save—if Bilbo looked closely enough—a ring of blue around the large pupils.

He pulled his fingers out and squeezed more lube into his hand, generously slicking Thorin’s cock. Bilbo pushed down on it. His hand’s steadied him, pressed on Thorin’s shoulders. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of Thorin’s mouth and straightened. He rose, legs pushing him up so just the head remained inside him, and fell, beginning an even pace above Thorin.

Thorin seemed to sink into the bed, eyes fixated on Bilbo. He closed his eyes, hands resting on Bilbo’s hips. Bilbo leaned down, kissing Thorin sloppily. Thorin’s eyes opened as he rose back up. He gasped when Thorin thrust up, hands holding him more steadily as he rammed up into Bilbo.

Thorin shifted his hips just a little and on thrusting up, Bilbo screamed, vision failing at the unexpected jab at his prostate. Thorin rolled them over, allowing Bilbo access to claw his back. Bilbo’s voice was lost, caged in the back of his throat. The bursts of pleasure from Thorin ramming into his prostate, the stimulation added to his cock from Thorin’s stomach rubbing against it…

Bilbo closed his eyes.

“ _Thorin…Thorin…Oh…”_  

He did not know if his whispers took voice. He doubted it, and did not care. The press of Thorin’s torso lifted and a hand curled around the base of Bilbo’s cock, sliding up and down along the shaft and a thumb smeared a bead of pre-cum around the head…back down, fondle his balls, up to the shaft again…

“ _Cum for me_ ,” Thorin growled in his ear. Bilbo could feel his smirk against his ear. “ _Cum for me, Bilbo_.”  

Bilbo gasped as his orgasm hit. Ribbons of his seed spurted across his chest. His nails dug into Thorin’s flesh and his toes curled. His arms fell to either side of his head, eyes still closed. One hand fisted the sheet beneath him.

“ _Thorin…Oh, God…deeper…slower…Thorin, please…_ ”

The pace slowed, though still no less brutal as Thorin thrust harder into Bilbo.

He dared open his eyes wondering if his temporary, pleasure soaked blindness ebbed. Thorin stared down at him, his hands gripping Bilbo’s knees. Bilbo’s arms were heavy, but he lifted them anyway, wrapping them around Thorin’s neck. Thorin knelt down, kissing Bilbo as he climaxed.

Bilbo squeezed around Thorin’s cock, feeling it pulse within him.

When he relaxed, Thorin slid out, shakily removing the used condom and heading into the bathroom. He returned with a warm, damp cloth to wipe Bilbo’s seed off him, kissing Bilbo through his ministrations before tossing the cooled cloth aside.

Bilbo managed to turn on his side, resting his head on Thorin’s shoulder, feeling the still violent beat of Thorin’s heart in his chest and panting alongside him. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows, grinning at Thorin.

“That was incredible.” He almost missed it, drenched in sweat as they were. It would have been easy to miss the fresh tears streaming down Thorin’s cheeks. But he did see them and he frowned, brow furrowed. “Thorin?”

“Don’t go. Stay with me.”

Bilbo’s throat felt tight again. He wanted to stay. To possibly have a future here in Seattle…to wake up beside this man more than just twice…have a family of his own with him, Frodo, Fili, and Kili…

But he had to talk to his boss about transferring to Seattle. Preferably in person. If it was successful, he’d have to do something about his lease, talk to Frodo about the “idea” of moving here and try to convince him it’d be a good idea, and somehow explain _why_ he decided to move to his friends and relatives back home. He’d have to report to his new Assistant Director when he moved, find a school for Frodo, find another apartment—or maybe not, if Thorin was willing…which maybe he was.

“I want to,” he said, wiping Thorin’s tears away with his thumb. “God knows I want to. I love you. But I’m going to have to jump through hoops first before I can positively say I can come back. It could take six months to a year and that’s if I’m successful in all the things I’ll have to do: get a transfer, cancel my lease, transfer Frodo to a new school…” He cupped Thorin’s cheek. “I want to be with you, too. It just…can’t be right now no matter how much we wish it.”

He didn’t know what else he could say, so he laid his head on Thorin’s breast, embracing him. Thorin’s fingers tangled in his hair, brushing through sweat-damp curls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go!


	31. Chapter 31

Thorin didn’t want to wake. As it was, waking seemed unavoidable when he felt a press of lips to his mouth. He opened his eyes just enough to see. “Morning,” Bilbo said, voice husky from having just woken up.

“Good morning. What time is it?” It came out more _wha’ time izzit_.

“A little after eight.”

“What the hell, Bilbo?” Thorin groaned. Tired as he felt, he’d rather sleep until noon.

“I have to catch my flight. I’d rather not call my boss to tell him I missed my plane because I overslept. He will ask why and I’d rather leave my sex life at home, personally.” Thorin barely heard another word past “flight,” cursing himself for letting his emotions overtake him last night.

_Why did I beg him to stay? I know he can’t, so why did I bother?_

“Thorin?”

Thorin sat up. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“I have a rental car…” Bilbo bit his lip, laid on his side and propped up on an elbow. “Would you _prefer_ to drive me?”

Thorin stared at Bilbo, trying to memorize him.

His mist-blue eyes…The curve of his nose…the way it twitched when he sniffed…Honey-blonde locks tossled over his round face…a thick curl spiraled just above his right eye…Lips still kiss-bruised red…The hickey sucked into his neck…His ears…

Thorin traced the curve of Bilbo’s ear with his finger, watching the smaller man shiver, schooling himself not to lean in or pull away. He should have taken advantage of that last night. And probably would have had he remembered his ear’s sensitivity.

“Yes. I’d prefer that. Doesn’t change the fact that the car still has to be returned…” He swallowed, holding back the urge to ask if Bilbo really needed to leave today. “So I guess you need to get up now…”

“I should do that…”

Thorin swallowed. His throat felt tight again. _If I asked you again, would you change your mind?_ He doubted it.

Bilbo stood, limping toward the bathroom.

Thorin watched from the door, eyes fixated on Bilbo’s bum until he disappeared behind the door. He lay back down, covering his face with his arm, trying to calm himself before new tears escaped, listening to the shower run.

#

Frodo shrunk into the guard’s frame, trying to seem insignificant, eyes downcast and hands twisting his bag straps.

His eyes fix on the stump of his right hand.

He hated it. Perhaps he always would hate it.

“Frodo,” the guard squeezed his shoulder gently, urging him to look up. “Look who is back.”

Bilbo walked through the gate, approaching baggage claim listing the flight from Seattle. Frodo tore away from his guard. Bilbo knelt, arms spread to welcome him. Frodo couldn’t hold back the tears any more despite knowing he’d be embarrassed later for wailing like a babe. He just missed Bilbo so much!

Bilbo let him weep, kissing his temple and carrying him to the rotating belt. He was set down eventually and he settled for leaning into his uncle while his bags were gathered. He and the guard were talking about the case Bilbo had just returned from. Frodo didn’t care about it. Whatever happened, Gollum was dead and he could live with Bilbo again.

“Are you still having nightmares, Frodo?”

He looked up at Bilbo and shook his head. “Sometimes, but not as much anymore,” he whispered.

“What about your games?” He shook his head. “Writing about…”

“Nope. I’m not _all_ better, but I’m definitely better than before.”

“Good. I was wanting to talk to you about something and I know it’s a bit much right now, but I’d like to at least have you _know_ I’m thinking about it. But we’ll do that after I’ve talked to Uncle Rory.”

“Okay. What about?”

“Moving.”

“To where?”

“Seattle. We’ll discuss it later,” Bilbo promised, ruffling Frodo’s hair.

“Why?”

“Why Seattle or why later?”

“Why Seattle?”

Bilbo blinked at him and bit his lip. “There’s a little girl a bit older than you who just went through something horrible and I think you’ll like to know her. She has an uncle and older brother, but it may be nice for her to know another child who also has PTSD.”

Frodo wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get along with a girl older than him. Most girls who were older than him were snooty. He nodded anyway, because he didn’t really care where at this point so long as he could be with Bilbo. It wouldn’t hurt after all…and Frodo felt Bilbo was leaving something out. He’d figure it out later, pretending to be satisfied with the answer provided at the moment.

_**~Six Years Later~** _

“Kili,” Thorin knocked on the door to her room. “Princess?” He opened it and entered cautiously. Of course she’d have ear buds in, tapping a pen against her desk. He tapped her shoulder. One bud was pulled out and he handed her to envelope. “From the University of Massachusetts.”

“Thanks.” She ripped it open, reading. And beamed. “I got in.”

“I’ll let Bilbo know, then,” Thorin sighed. He had _hoped_ she’d not get accepted so far away from home.

Kili didn’t suffer her usual nightmares as often anymore, but once in a while, she would wake up screaming, nails scratching at her neck. When Thorin, Fili, Frodo, or Bilbo finally managed to calm her down enough to stop screaming, Kili would be hit with severe hyperventilation, demanding an immediate fresh air and a glass of water before she was calm again. They used to be nightly, but her shrink had been a godsend if nothing else.

“Are you _sure_ you’ll be okay going someplace so far from home?” Thorin asked. “You also got into the U-Dub.”

“And I’m very glad I got into the U-Dub. But Legolas isn’t _attending_ the University of Washington, Thorin. But he _is_ attending the University of Massachusetts.”

Thorin closed his eyes, trying not to let the mention of Legolas get to him. The kid was okay, on a whole. But he didn’t like the idea of his niece going to a specific college far away from home to be with a boy she had been “crushing on” since…around the same time she was nearly killed by said kid’s nutcase father…Thorin didn’t quite get the logic of Kili’s love for Legolas. It didn’t escape Thorin’s notice that Legolas was also infatuated with Kili as much as she was with him. Bilbo was more worried with how Legolas’ resemblance to his father would affect Kili’s mostly curbed PTSD. Fili would rather break both his arms, regardless of relations or lack thereof.

“We agreed we’d go to the same college together.”

“And he couldn’t have come to the U-Dub?”

“He tried two years ago to get in. Remember? You _subtly_ reminded him you owned a gun.”

Thorin snorted. “I almost forgot about that…”

“Not funny.”

“Yes it is…you were sixteen, what was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe trust that he respects, or rather _fears_ , you too much to try anything until I was eighteen. Which is today, isn’t it?”

Was it? Thorin grimaced. _Well shit_. Not really, he remembered and Bilbo had been using his much needed week off getting ready for a birthday party/open house for Kili. (And for other things probably best left unsaid if Thorin valued his life and…certain parts.) Fili would be coming by later today and Frodo should be home soon…

Bilbo was convinced that their youngest nephew was innocently off with friends and deliberately _not_ trying to spend more time with his new English teacher, Mr. Elessar. Supposedly the man was a god or something similar in Frodo’s eyes. The boy wouldn’t stop worshipping the man’s every word. Thorin twisted the gold ring around his finger anxiously, frowning. Kili watched him, waiting for him to leave or switch subjects. He dropped his hands and stuffed them in his pockets.

“Anything else, Thorin?”

“Nothing that comes time mind,” he admitted. “See you downstairs in an hour.”

“Okay.”

The ear bud goes back in and Thorin closes the door behind him on exiting the room. He found Bilbo in the kitchen, finishing the finger sandwiches neatly piled on a plate and wrapped his arms around him, kissing his neck. “Can’t wait until _after_ the party?”

“I can wait,” Thorin promised. “I just don’t really want to.”

“I can tell,” Bilbo said, turning to give Thorin a peck on the lips. “And while I would _love_ to indulge you, I’d rather _not_ be caught in a compromising position. Again. Unlike you, I don’t take enjoyment scarring half the family. And I _especially_ didn’t enjoy scarring that half at our wedding.”

Thorin snorted. “Yes, Dear.”

Bilbo muttered something that sounded like “typical.”

“I love you,” Thorin whispered in his ear.

This time he received more than a peck. “I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished!!! I swear, I thought it'd be less than twenty chapters...what happened?! 
> 
> Oh well...
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, commenting, etc. I hope FTK wasn't too scary for everyone.


End file.
